


The Phoenix and the Bear Chapter 1

by Selmak



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cross-Generational, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OMC - Freeform, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-26
Updated: 2010-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:36:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selmak/pseuds/Selmak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Editor's note: I changed some cannon as I decided that Albus Dumbledore defeated Gellert during his summer vacation from Hogwarts. This is a prequel to 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier'.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Editor's note: I changed some cannon as I decided that Albus Dumbledore defeated Gellert during his summer vacation from Hogwarts. This is a prequel to 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier'.

Editor's note: I changed some cannon as I decided that Albus Dumbledore defeated Gellert during his summer vacation from Hogwarts. This is a prequel to 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier'.

* * *

"Albus… you don't really have a choice in this matter," Reginald Baxter, the incoming Minister of Magic, informed Albus Dumbledore. "The new term starts next week and you will have an Auror bodyguard. You managed to weasel out if it by popping to and for for the summer – but you will be tied down to Hogwarts."

"I really don't need someone to mind me," protested a tired Albus Dumbledore. His tone was lifeless and his blue eyes were surprisingly old for a mage in his physical prime. He was only sixty three years old but his youthful vigor had gone a burton. His exhaustion was to be expected as he had just defeated Gellert Grindelwald in a battle whose complexity was still being dissected by the Magical Bureau of Defense.

"Yes, you do," Reggie stated in a 'I dare you to disagree me' tone. "We're not sure all of Gellert's followers have been contained. They will come after you."

"Let them come," countered Dumbledore, displaying his first spark of energy in far too long. "I will not live my life in fear of possible assassination."

The birdlike Reggie made a most ungentlemanly exclamation which cannot be repeated in polite company.

"What about Hogwarts?" Reggie asked. Seeing Albus' momentary lapse of surety, the former Auror pounced on his distracted prey. "If you won't take an Auror for your protection, do it for the students. You're tired, Albus. You're in no condition to take on a squad of Gellert's followers if they reach Hogwarts. If there's an altercation someone will get hurt. A child... a student... a co-worker... just because you were too damn proud to accept help."

"Reggie…" Albus began, though he was weakening as Reggie had hit his Achilles' hell with all the fury of a rutting werewolf. Damn Reggie! Damn the eagle-eyed Reggie for realizing that working at Hogwarts... with magical children...with the gifted and the not-so-gifted was Albus' own personal atonement for past deeds. Baxter didn't know the truth of it, thank God. But there was always the fear that Baxter would decide to investigate.

"Yes, I know about your peccadilloes as you know that I share them. The Auror I've chosen to be your guard is my former protégé. He doesn't share our inclinations, Albus, but he also doesn't view us as perverted deviants."

"Probably a good actor," was the flat response.

"No. He's raw as rope and doesn't possess a filter. He's utterly shocking and yet completely refreshing. Albus, you know about our team of Aurors that were on the Eastern front on the continent?" Reggie questioned.

"They did amazing work," Albus answered. Truly, that small band of nameless Aurors had been a band of Avenging Angels, relocating Muggles and Mages alike from Gellert's oncoming armies. Their escapades were legendary and even the biased Daily Prophet had declared the unlikely band of heroes a magical treasure.

" _ **They**_ did not," Reggie stressed. He held up his hand to stop Albus from interrupting. " _ **He**_ did bloody phenomenal work. We sent a quad of volunteers to help out. Alastor's been working alone for the last six months. I need to get him out of the field and quickly before he burns out. He's insisting on staying out in the field until the job is done. He stays out for much longer, he'll be as crispy as an overbaked treacle tart. In this strange new world that I find myself in charge of, I need both of you hale and hearty."

Albus shook his head and Reggie overruled his longtime friend. "You're meeting him tomorrow at the ceremony. You're both getting Orders of Merlin. Right now, I need heroes for the general populace and _**congratulations**_ you and Moody have been selected. Then he's moving into your quarters at Hogwarts right afterwards, so you need to Charm up an extension. He's a big burly bloke so don't skimp. Full suite of rooms, Albus, proper sized bed..."

He knew Albus would mutter how he didn't deserve an OoM, but Reggie was surprised when Albus flinched.

"Wear something festive," ordered Reggie. "You look like you're being laid out."

* * *

Alastor Moody stormed into Reggie Baxter's office, his dark mood frightening several undersecretaries and three clerks.

"No need to let me know he's here," Minister Baxter stated to his terrified clerk. "I could hear his voice once he entered the building. Perhaps calling your new Minister of Magic a daft plonker is not the smartest career decision? And I'm quite sure that I didn't hear you call me a Daft Tossing Wanker?"

"Of course not, Minister," responded a not very contrite Alastor. The Auror was guilty of doing that but he wasn't idiotic enough to tell Baxter.

"Put your arse in a chair, lad," Reggie commanded. He was busy signing various documents and he didn't look up to see if Alastor did as instructed. Because he knew Alastor would sit and Alastor accepted that he'd sit. Reggie then gave the stack of papers to his clerk and ordered him to Floo the Prophet regarding the photo opportunity at the ceremony.

That done, he looked at the ginger Alastor, Viewing him, estimating his magical stores, guessing at his depletion levels and worrying about his hair-trigger temper. Inwardly, he cursed himself for letting Alastor Moody get into such physical straits, alone on the Eastern Front. Intellectually, he accepted that no one else could have convinced Gellert's followers that they were dealing with a quad of highly trained warrior mages. Emotionally, he ripped himself as new hole because he shouldn't have left Alastor out there. The boy was barely in his thirties! Yet he looked older and Reggie noticed how his eyes constantly shifted as though anticipating attack. Paranoia and constant vigilance had kept Alastor alive for his tour of hell, but now Reggie needed to reintegrate Alastor back into the norms of peacetime Auroring.

"I understand that you're not appreciative of your new assignment," Reggie dryly commented.

"You want me to mind that mage that defeated Gellert. What exactly do you want me to do? Offer to hold his cloak when he decides to kick in the gates of hell as an encore?" Alastor growled. "Put me back in the field, Reggie. There's actual work I can do in Europe!"

"Alastor, defeating Gellert exhausted Albus Dumbledore. In his weakened condition, he will be easy prey for Gellert's followers. I need you to keep him alive," explained Reggie.

"Why me?" Alastor roughly exclaimed.

"I told you, perhaps you weren't listening, Senior Auror Moody. I need Albus Dumbledore alive. I've chosen you for three reasons. You're the best Auror I have available. You're also open-minded, which I need as Albus and I share similar inclinations. You never held that against me…"

"Why should I?" Alastor questioned. "I was the only Muggle-born Auror trainee in over fifty years! Kept getting that superior pureblood bull shit crammed down my throat, even the halfies looked down on me."

"Which is pretty hard to comprehend as you towered over all the others in your trainee cohort? And in fact, I know that when you were my trainee you binned a Senior Auror who made a comment about my particularities. Literally binned him, Alastor! 'Talking rubbish means you get put in with the rubbish'!"

Alastor's face fell and he looked bashful.

"You _**knew**_ about that?"

"Yes, Alastor, I kept both eyes on you and while normally I can not condone a trainee slamming Senior Auror Phineas into a rubbish bin, I appreciate the sentiment. I must confess that I was surprised that you didn't turn him into a rubbish bin."

There was a mumbled response of 'got the bloody spell wrong'.

"Anyway, Albus appreciates men. You're a raging heterosexual, Alastor, as I know about the various female Aurors to which you'd showed your wand."

Reggie was rewarded with Alastor Moody turning fuchsia and attempting to hide his face.

"I must confess that I am still awed by your vitality and stamina, Auror Moody. As I was explaining, Albus is like me in that we both share similar interests. I can safely say that your virtue will remain intact as Albus won't find you attractive." Then just to twist the knife a little more as Alastor needed to be spanked after his bad behavior, Reggie added, "In the slightest. You're taller than he is, you outweigh him by a few stone and the beard… Plus he's a bit of a repressed priss. Alastor, I know that being out on the Eastern front for the last six months was hellish, but you need to trim that beard and cut your hair. You look like a ginger haired bear."

"I should feel insulted," Alastor protested. He proudly stroked his beard. "It kept me warm at night."

"And please take a long bath," Reggie pleaded. "I know you Scourifyied yourself daily but really, hot water, soap?"

He then dismissed Alastor, but Alastor refused to leave.

"What's the third reason, Reginald?" Alastor asked.

"You've been in the field by yourself for too long. I need to pull you back in, Alastor. Before you so astray in the head or have a meltdown. I should have pulled you back in after Erik immolated himself, but I had no one to replace you."

Of the four Auror blood brothers sent off to the Eastern Front, only two survived. Edgar had been shipped off to Mungo's early on, Clarence had gotten killed by a troika of Gellert's supporters and after Erik's stunning death by flambé, Alastor had been left to carry on. Six months of solitary fighting, a one wizard resistance army.

"Erik died due to _hostiles_ ," growled Alastor.

"I investigated Erik's death, Alastor. You and I know the truth, but no one else does. Erik's mum is getting his death benefit so his dying in battle is the official story. No one needs to know that the demons he was fighting were his own. Auror to Auror, brother to brother, Alastor. I swore the oath, too. Now, Alastor, I _**anticipate**_ that you _**will**_ cooperate. Clarence's widow will be receiving the Order of Merlin medal as will Erik's mother. Edgar's receiving his in a private ceremony as you know he's no good with crowds. Not any more. I need one of the Eastern Front Quad at the ceremony and you're it."

Bloody hell, Reggie had him by the short hairs.

* * *

The other Hogwart House Heads had taken it upon themselves to get him presentable for the travesty of the Order of Merlin award. He didn't bloody deserve it. He knew and accepted his role in Gellert's rise in power and the accompanying guilt but he had recognized the glittering in Reggie's eyes. It was a losing battle as Reggie would have him at the ceremony, short of Albus Hexing him - and knowing Reggie, he had probably also double dosed on the AntiHex Potion.

Galatea Merrythought was to be his 'date', Filius Flitwick was threatening him with a CheerMeUp Charm that would make him the life of the party and Horace Slughorn was busy commenting on the social and political connections of people he might meet. With friends like these, Gellert would have never become a Dark Lord Overseer intent on capturing Europe. No, he would have gone absolutely stark raving nutters.

Galatea shook her head in disapproval at his mood. "You deserve this. Stop acting like you're a guest at your own funeral. Filius? Do you have a Charm that might help?"

"No charms, please," requested Albus. "Filius, did you ask Hogwarts if she'd be kind enough to expand my quarters?"

As the longest serving House Head, Filius was required to intercede with the Grand Dame Hogwarts regarding structural changes. It wasn't that she was uncooperative, but she was a tad bit set in her ways and firm in her foundations.

"What's this? Albus needs a larger suite? You moving someone in?" Horace narrowed his gooseberry colored eyes in mock concern. "Dippet must be having backflips – what with our morality code in our contracts."

"Horace, don't you worry, Reggie Baxter talked to Dippet and it's all approved," chirped an irrepressible Filius. "I just need his name."

"He's an Auror..." began Albus.

"Oooo..." catcalled Galatea. "An Auror...who is this pretty that has attracted your interest enough for you to actually make such a bold declaration of your interest?"

Really, this matter was rapidly heading out of control, and Albus needed to put his foot down.

"Reggie believes that some of Gellert's followers might wish to avenge what happened." He kept his tone flat and the irrepressible trio settled down right quick. Perhaps too quickly as they were now overly concerned about his welfare.

"He's guarding you," Galatea surmised. "Who is it? Have you met him?"

"No, I haven't met him as he was one of the Eastern Front Quad. He's been in Eastern Europe for the last year or so."

"Alastor? It wouldn't be Alastor by chance, would it?" the intuitive Filius asked.

"If by Alastor, you would mean Alastor Moody, you would be correct," Albus agreed.

"He's one of my high-flying Eagles," Filius proudly admitted. But his mustache was twitching which meant the Charms Master was struggling not to laugh.

"May I ask why you're so amused?" Albus questioned.

"You and Alastor are quite the odd couple," giggled Galatea. "It's like having a den of broody Ashwinders nestling next to an erumpet horn. You two together? He's so... Alastor and you're just so... Albus...Just so Albus..."

And both Horace and Filius were nodding their heads in agreement.

"What do you mean by that?" protested a flustered Albus.

* * *

"Albus!" Reginald Baxter exclaimed upon Albus' arrival to his inquisition. "You came! And Galatea! No doubt it's all due to your influence."

The newly crowned Minister exchanged assorted pleasantries to Galatea before he asked if he and Albus could be excused. He then hooked his arm into Albus' and pulled him toward a small room.

"I need you to meet Alastor," Reginald explained. "You two will get along like a cauldron on fire!" Then in a softer voice, he informed Albus that the Department of Aurors had Charmed the party for safety. And then as an afterthought, "And there are anti-Disaparation charms. So while you could punch your way through them, Albus, it would make quite the scene."

In a louder tone as the two men entered a smaller room, "And here is Alastor!"

Albus wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the man known as Alastor Moody wasn't it.

Moody was tall, a bit taller than Albus and he was broad shouldered and bulky. Well, that was just a first impression as Moody hadn't bothered to pretty up. No, he was wearing his working clothes. Long leather jacket, dragonhide vest, sturdy trousers and dragonhide boots. He carried a blasting staff in the crook of one arm and his wand was noticeably holstered with his left hand hovering over it. Shaggy, ginger hair with a matching beard, complete with a streak of grey. It looked like a Hex-caused disfiguration as he was probably in his mid-thirties at the maximum. And far too young to have come across the grey naturally.

His face looked young – however his eyes... his dark eyes were darting back and forth, never still. The hands that hovered over... never on... his wand and staff. To Albus, he personalized vigilance that bordered on full blown paranoia.

Alastors' eyes narrowed and he stared at Albus. For several minutes, he examined Albus and then he spoke.

"Alastor Moody," he introduced himself.

"Albus Dumbledore," Albus replied in kind and then extended his hand. To his surprise, Moody ignored it... well... he viewed it with the same intensity that some reserved for poisonous snakes.

He looked... like he was a walking, talking case of SpellShock.

A guardian angel that had witnessed too many traumas to stay sane, and in response to his suffering, he had become one of God's Avenging Angel, thunderbolt and lightning in hand.

"I'm going home with you tonight," Alastor announced.

Albus flushed and Moody roughly barked a laugh.

"Hard to believe that a renowned defeater of Dark Lords blushes," Alastor growled. "Then again, it's hard to believe that the Ministry believes you need someone to change your nappies. We need to get some ground rules settled first."

"When it comes to your safety, _ **I**_ make the final decisions. You will abide by what I say with no whinging. I've heard that you haven't wanted a minder so you've been blatantly ignoring Reggie's attempts at saving you from your own stupidity. That shite's ending now," Alastor roughly insisted.

Like bloody hell was Albus Dumbledore allowing a stranger to make decisions involving him.

"You're not making my decisions for me. I make them _**myself**_ and you figure out how to keep me safe. If Reggie had his way, he'd put me in a cell and keep me there," protested Albus. "He doesn't want me to teach this term, and I refused. I will teach my students and I do not need you to mind me during classes."

The two wizards glared at each other, daring the other one to look away first. It was akin to staring at a mad dog, Albus realized. One sign of weakness and he'd pounce... yet too much staring would be viewed as an attempt to dominate Alastor, causing him to attack. Instinctively, they took one step closer toward each other and then Reggie... short, wren-like Reggie butted between them.

"Now boys," Reggie interrupted. He grabbed both men by their arms and squeezed. Hard.

The two near combatants turned as one and stared at him, both obviously puzzled by his interruption of their friendly greetings.

"Put your willies back into your pants, boys. There is no need for a pissing match. We're actually doing this my way," Reggie explained in a faux cheerful voice. "In public, Alastor will not disagree with Albus. You two will appear to be _**friendly**_ at all times."

Alastor was in mid-bark and Albus was smiling,

"Don't get too happy, Albus. In private, Alastor will take lead. In all matters of defense, Alastor's will be the final decision. Don't try to be a sly fox, Albus, and attempt to make changes in public. Albus will continue to teach however Alastor will be present during all classes, be they public, private; one-on-ones for advancements or remediation and most especially Alastor will be there for all detentions. I don't anticipate that Albus will need you to be his teaching assistant, Alastor. You will be an observer, nothing more."

"Do I have to soap his back for him, too?" Alastor roared.

"I _**must**_ protest," Albus argued.

"Protest all you wish, Albus and Alastor. We have medals that we are presenting in two minutes and I know that you both will be happy and clappy and most importantly suitably impressive so you can give our shattered populace some hope in these difficult and trying days. Alastor, Edgar's children are in attendance, so I'm sure you'll wish to talk with them. Albus, I took the liberty of having a few students from Hogwarts attend. One of them is the Head Girl, the one that is training to be an animagus? I think she's one of your lions, am I correct?"

Both wizards, realizing that they had been cut off at the knees, decided silence was the better part of valor.

"Now, good wizards," Reggie exclaimed. "A celebration awaits. In other words, you're about to go out there to a world hungry for heroes. You will smile. You will be happy. You will appear to be the closest of friends. And you know _**why**_?"

"Because you got me by my short hairs," Alastor growled.

Albus nodded his head in agreement. "While his expression of discontent is rather ... crude...the sentiment is quite correct."

"Boys, boys, boys," Reggie protested. "You're going to smile because that's what _**cheerful**_ wizards do."

* * *

Alastor Moody was beyond fuming. Albus Dumbledore was a prissy school teacher, an academic, annoyed that his personal freedom was curtailed. And Alastor would be responsible for keeping Dumbledore's intelligent head on his shoulders. No common sense did he possess. Yes, he had defeated Gellert but Gellert had probably tripped over Albus' long robes.

A lucky cast, a throw of a hex...

Yet Alastor knew that his furious anger... it was a new thing. It had kept him alive on the Eastern Europe Front for the last six months, after Erik had gotten Spellshocked. Erik was a good man, and Alastor refused to linger on Erik's last few moments. Moody had long accepted that a good man could be driven into darkness, especially after what the two of them had endured together after Clarence's death. When Erik had finally snapped and nearly taken out a bunch of innocent Muggles thinking that they were a cohort of Gellert's followers, Alastor had put him down.

Reggie knew the bloody truth and had kept it close to his vest. Erik's mum was getting the death benefit and she needed to keep receiving it. Therefore, Alastor put on his best smile and went out to his public.

The flashing of photos being taken blinded him, making him relive the horror and chaos of the firefight of Erik's death and instinctively, he reached for his wand. To his surprise, Albus latched onto his hand.

"It's just the flashes from the photographers. Don't panic," hissed Albus. Then in a louder tone, Albus offered to illuminate the room. "The flashing are quite overwhelming us both."

Alastor mumbled something that he hoped sounded like thanks and then opened his eyes. Albus Dumbledore was creating a ball of illumination wandlessly. _**Wandlessly**_. The wizard that Alastor was willing to dismiss as an overdressed priss had a bit of talent.

Still didn't mean that Alastor was gonna scrub his back in the tub. Or get the lather out of his hair.

* * *

Albus and Alastor mutually and silently both decided to mingle solo. Alastor saw a small girl next to three strapping lads. The set was matched with a harried looking mum and two other ladies, and his face broadened into the first real smile of the evening.

"Mrs. Bones?" He asked. "Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Harrison."

"Pru," Prudence Bones reminded him. "How many times must I insist that you call me, Pru? Edgar would have loved to have been here, but he's not comfortable with being out in the public."

Clarence's widow greeted him with a kiss and a hug, then Erik's mom was given a warm handshake.

They chinwagged for a bit and Edgar's young daughter Amelia had just informed him that she was attending Hogwarts for the first time in a week when Alastor was requested to get his arse over to meet someone important. He ignored the summons and instead bent down so he was eye to eye with young Amelia. She was a serious girl, far too serious for her age. Edgar had confessed that he was a might worried about young Amelia attending Hogwarts as she had been the lone Bones child still being homeschooled when her dad had gotten hurt. She had been deeply traumatized and Edgar worried about her first few days at school.

Therefore Alastor would keep both eyes on her, least as much as he could while soaping Albus Dumbledore's assorted bits.

"Now, Amelia, I'm being assigned to Hogwarts, so if you need anything, you come find me. Deal?"

She nodded her head before spontaneously giving him a big hug. He hugged her back and ignored the repeated summons for just a while longer.

He was then hugged and kissed by all three women, given a hearty handshake by all three Bones lad and then agreed to meet the Minister of Bloody Toilets.

What a flushing good time he was having.

* * *

Albus decided to divest himself of Alastor Moody the bloody Berserker as soon as possible. The bright lights of the photographer's flashes had been nerve-wracking yes, but Alastor had instinctively gone for his wand. Recklessly, Albus had grabbed Moody's wand hand, trying to prevent the widespread destruction of most of the wizarding world's press corps. While the death of Moe Skeeter would not be even be considered a minor loss, there were a great many people whose deaths would be hard to explain.

Galatea latched onto his arm, and skillfully directed him towards the various people that Horace Slughorn had deemed important. As Reggie would desire, Albus made small talk and gave false praise to Moody whenever possible. The ginger-haired bear was not making the social rounds according to the various disapproving comments made in his presence and fortunately Galatea was able to rally a defense.

"I'm sure he's visiting with the families of the Eastern European Quad. They were invited tonight and I'm sure he wished to see them. They were a brave band of brothers facing impossible situations together, so I'm sure their tight bond is impossible for people like us to understand."

Then Albus was informed that the awards would be presented.

* * *

Alastor didn't remember much of the ceremony. Lots of hot air about what he and his brothers had done, how a schoolteacher had defeated a Dark Wizard. He did remember the faces, the upturned faces peering up at him when Reggie placed the Order of Merlin – 1st class on him. A sea of faces looking for a hero in dark times and not one of them was kin. He was Muggle-born, his dad and mum long dead. The little he remembered of his father was that he had been a police officer before Liam had taken sick and died.

All those long years in the orphanage, where he had been friendless and considered unlucky due to the flukish things that occurred around him, he had always remembered that his Da had been the proper sort. Perhaps he had turned his Da into a superhero, but Alastor always struggled to be the man his father had been.

Might did not make right.

Morality was all that kept mankind from descending into anarchy and so he followed his Code. That's why he became the first successful Muggle-born Auror in a hag's age because he was following in the footsteps of his Da. He hoped his Da and his Mum were watching down on him and that they were bloody proud of him.

Because he had taken his magic, a gift, and used it well.

Or so he hoped.

And as he looked at the multitude of faces, he never felt so damn alone in his life.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore didn't anticipate that Aberforth would make an appearance and so he wasn't disappointed when he failed to see him. Instead he just saw the clamoring crowd and he felt violently ill at the celebratory praise.

 _  
**I let Gellert do this to you all. Do not praise me! BLAME ME! Punish me!**   
_

When the blasted celebration was over, he had a pounding headache. Galatea took pity on him, and Side-Apparated the entire group back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Alastor Moody followed Albus Dumbledore back to his suite. Tomorrow, he'd be introduced to the various staff members of Hogwarts but tonight he needed to get some sleep.

After arriving in the suite, the first thing Alastor Moody did was toss the Order of Merlin into his dresser. He noticed without commenting that his 'suite of rooms' consisted of a small, single bed, a chest of drawers... and no private bath. Wonderful, the schoolteacher would soon regret his decision as he'd be getting an eyeful and more of Alastor Moody every damn time he bathed. Then Moody began triple checking the wards. After they matched his personal satisfaction, he placed a foeglass, a sneakoscope and assorted toys of the trade throughout Albus' neat quarters.

Albus opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but Alastor cut him off quick. "Private means your quarters."

That done, Alastor cast a spell on the door and on the various windows.

"If you decide to take a midnight walk, you'll wake me," he explained.

And with that, Alastor Moody went to bed. His small, single bed that filled most of the room.

* * *

Damn it, Hogwarts hadn't agreed to amend a full suite of rooms to his quarters. He needed that rectified tomorrow. At the very least the Auror deserved a bed large enough to entertain in.

Oh dear God, he hadn't even thought that Alastor might wish nocturnal company.

Albus took off the blasted Order of Merlin, threw it in his sock drawer and then prepared for bed. And he had never felt so alone in his life.


	2. The Phoenix and the Bear Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next morning started off auspiciously like most naval disasters. A sleepy Albus wished to make use of the bath before Alastor woke. Instead of a nice, long bath, he walked in to find Alastor in the slipper double claw bathtub. The Auror's eyes were closed and he was enjoying a long, leisurely soak under the watchful eye of Fawkes. The Phoenix's head was tilted and he was intently staring at Alastor, apparently as unsure of the young man as Albus was.

The next morning started off auspiciously like most naval disasters. A sleepy Albus wished to make use of the bath before Alastor woke. Instead of a nice, long bath, he walked in to find Alastor in the slipper double claw bathtub. The Auror's eyes were closed and he was enjoying a long, leisurely soak under the watchful eye of Fawkes. The Phoenix's head was tilted and he was intently staring at Alastor, apparently as unsure of the young man as Albus was.

Wishing to give him privacy, Albus attempted to leave but Alastor assured him that he'd be done in a moment. There was a gurgle of water as the bath emptied and then a quite flustered Albus fled the scene before he saw too much of Alastor. As it was, a dripping wet Alastor came out of the bath, clad only in a towel which barely covered his bits. Was he covered in just a _**hand**_ towel?

No, it was a full bath towel, thank God.

Bloody hell, the shoulders on the man! Not that Albus noticed shoulders, as his personal predilection was more toward the graceful and compact. _**Not**_ toward someone that outweighed him and was taller than he was. Certainly not towards someone who was coarse and rough and who would no doubt insist on being in charge because it was ' _ **private'**_.

And the way Alastor was acting, as though it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to be clad in only a towel!

"I would greatly appreciate if you would utilize a dressing gown," a flustered Albus protested. It took all of his willpower not to flick and switch one into creation.

"Don't have one," Alastor easily admitted. "I usually go starkers anyway. No worries, I shan't be doing that here."

Albus could only watch in horrified fascination as the hairy bear lumbered toward his den. Try as hard as he could, Albus didn't detect that Alastor was baiting him regading his sexual inclination. No, Alastor was just being matter of fact.

* * *

Then breakfast was horribly fascinating in a mid-air Quidditch collision type of way, as Albus wasn't allowed to eat anything until Alastor had double checked it for Charms and Hexes. The House Elves were noticeably affronted and Dippet glared at Albus, no doubt blaming him for upsetting the House Elves. Disgruntled House Elves could quickly disrupt the well-run Hogwarts and send it spiraling into chaos.

At last, with a brusque nod of his head, Alastor cleared Albus' breakkie. Then Alastor was presented with his repast by a House Elf who was quivering in terror. Two soft boiled eggs and some toast soldiers were being threatened with being dropped due to her shaking. Somehow, the frightened House Elf was able to place his meal on the table before backing away anxiously. The poor soul was wringing her hands in abject terror.

"Thank you," he informed the House Elf, as he expertly decapitated the two soft boiled eggs with a quick, savage slash of his spoon. "Miss Tibby? Is it not?"

The House Elf, fearful at being brought to Alastor's attention, nearly dropped her tray.

"Yes! Tibby!" She squeaked.

"Thank you, Ms. Tibby. 'Tis the first decent breakfast I've had in two years or more," Alastor informed Tibby.

"Tibby brings Mr. Auror Moody more!" She clutched her tray to her chest and nearly made a mad dash but Alastor asked her to stop.

"'Tis enough for the Ministry's soldier's first real meal in far too long. I believe that I owe thanks to Master Flitwick also," the Auror's voice was quite soft.

"I remembered," a smiling Filius admitted. He seemed quite chuffed that he had been found out. "You always ate that on your first breakfast back."

Something seemed to pass between the two men and then Alastor nodded his head in silent acknowledgement.

"Good to have you back, lad," was all Filius finally said.

* * *

The two wizards settled into a routine. Well, perhaps settled was not the correct term, perhaps forced into a routine would be a more apt description. Alastor bathed in the morning. Albus bathed in the evenings, while Alastor was busy torturing himself with the various physical exertions. The Auror locked Albus into his quarters for the duration of his torture sessions and then would appear back sometime later.

Albus knew that the strenuous physical exercise was helpful in keeping the irascible Alastor's temper under control. While Albus took lead in their public dealings, Alastor appeared the picture perfect servant, however everything reversed once they were alone. Alastor would loudly browbeat Albus for his stupidity and his naiveté regarding possible attacks and Albus would protest that Alastor's constant vigilance bordered on paranoia.

That exasperated comment had become Alastor's new catch phrase and he used it six or seven times a day. If not more. This day past, he had used it nineteen times.

It wasn't to say that Albus wasn't at fault. He was quite unhappy about his minder and his inability to enjoy the simpler things in life without a perfect stranger checking for possible hexes. One of the simpler things in his life that Albus truly missed was the ability to open his own owl posts, as Alastor didn't even bother to hide his amusement over the number of silk knickers he was receiving. He didn't say anything, he just arched one eyebrow. It was amazing how much Alastor could say by not saying anything!

The tension had gotten to the point where Albus was tempted to have Tibby the House Elf permanently stationed in his quarters. Reggie Baxter, Minister of Magic, had already been involved with one hot row between the two men regarding private verses public. To Albus' annoyance, Reggie had agreed with Alastor. Fawkes was Albus' familiar, bonded to the wizard, so therefore he was considered an extension of Albus. So interactions with Albus, Alastor and Fawkes were considered, PRIVATE, which meant Alastor was in charge.

His efforts at thawing the freeze between them was doomed to failure. Alastor had gotten very quiet when Albus had given him a proper dressing gown. Nothing too fancy, but it was warm and cozy. A sensible, solid color. Long enough to cover the long-legged Auror from his head to his calves and the various bits inbetween. Alastor might be comfortable wearing skin and a towel, but Albus did not wish for the faintest hint of impropriety. For good measure, he had thrown in a new nightshirt and a few pairs of socks because he had noticed that Alastor's socks were thin and nearly past mending.

When he handed the box to Alastor, Albus the Legilimens, had experienced a flash of humiliated memories from the younger man. Of a shamed Ravenclaw who had come into his adult height early being handed a box by Filius. The strength of the emotions surprised Albus as Alastor's countenance had been completely expressionless.

Alastor had brusquely thanked Albus and then he had retreated to his Spartan room. The dressing gown had been neatly hung in his near empty wardrobe, next to his dragonhide vest and leather jacket. Really, Alastor didn't have much in the manner of clothing, a few shirts, and several trousers. Everything compulsively straightened, compulsively cleaned. The room had all the hominess of a hotel room for let except for a picture of four men that was located on his dresser.

And Albus was unexpectedly reminded of Tom Riddle in the orphanage. But why, though?

It came to him finally late one night as Albus was pondering how Alastor now seemed more determined to keep his working clothes pristine.

His few possessions jealously guarded and perfectly maintained. Yet, he never purchased anything new.

That was it. That was the contradiction.

Albus needed to investigate his reticent, ginger-haired bear. Filius would be his best bet, but how to sneak away from Alastor long enough to have a chinwag?

In the end, it was rather frighteningly easy to discover Alastor's secret as Alastor himself gave Albus the opportunity. Moody wished to visit Hogsmeade so the Auror had arranged for Galatea Merrythought and Filius Flitiwck to mind him.

* * *

Alastor Moody was an Auror on a mission. He needed to get his wand checked at Ollivander's, get some decent clothes and the hardest of all for him, Alastor needed to inform Edgar Bones that he could no longer help support his family.

Damn that airy-fairy Dumbledore. He might have meant well by giving Alastor a dressing gown, but the nightshirt and the socks had been a pointed jab on how Alastor was looking raggedy. That his socks and nightshirts were mended. Well, it was easy for the Defeater of Dark Lords to live the good life; it was bloody difficulty to support three families on Alastor's salary. He saved a small smidgeon for himself and the rest had gone to support the Boneses, Clarence's widow and Erik's mum.

When Alastor had been on the frontlines, he hadn't required much in the way of funds. Galleons didn't spend that well in Muggle Eastern Europe after all, so when their team lead Senior Auror Edgar Bones had brutally injured, the three remaining Blood Brothers had requested that a significant chunk of their pay be given to Edgar's family. After Clarence was slain, well, he and Erik had decided it was only proper to take over Clarence's share of the Bones stipend and send a bit on to Clarence's widow. And after Erik... well... it was good and correct that Alastor support his mum.

Except now he was back in post-Gellert Britain and what had seemed more than adequate to live on, a prince's salary, really wasn't. Especially now that Alastor was in high society with Dumbledore the peacock. With a wand that didn't feel _**right**_ in his hand, not any more, not after Erik.

And the prices! Everything rationed, what little that was available had tripled in price if not more...

He arrived at the Bones' residence, a nice neat farmhouse with a large Victory garden along with a great many farm animals. The oldest boy, Edgar, invited him in and as Alastor had feared, Pru insisted on making a fuss over him. A High Tea just for the adults, which was bloody wonderful. How relaxing it was, to have a nice cuppa with a bit of honey. For once, Alastor didn't have to worry about overly anxious House Elves pestering him or Albus Dumbledore swooning face forward into his cuppa because he used the wrong spoon.

There was a shuffling noise, and Edgar Bones, Senior, joined him. Alastor stood while Edgar approached the table and he carefully clasped Edgar's remaining forearm.

"I'm glad you're here," Edgar quietly informed Alastor. "My family is going on an outing today. Diagon Ally for supplies for Hogwarts. Think I can convince you to come with me? It's the first time I've been out in public since the Front, could use my brother for support. 'Sides, Allie, you might like to see how we're spending your money."

That jest failed, as a tearful Edgar broke down, wiping his eyes with his hand. "Thank you. 'Twas not for you, Clarry and Erik, my family wouldn't have anything. Since what we were doing wasn't officially Ministry approved, well, they didn't wish to pay my pension. Reggie says I'll be getting it soon, by Christmas, so I'll be paying you back. Every bloody knut, I'll pay you back."

While Alastor was struggling to keep his composure, Pru decided to hug him. Really, Senior Aurors shouldn't be so damn emotional. It was a sign of weakness, but Alastor was a bloody prat. To hell with Dumbledore and his sense of style, Alastor would _**still**_ continue to support the Boneses. He didn't need a crisp shirt; his old ones were plenty fine enough. Mending was easy, be it magical or muggle sewing. And really, how could Alastor think of new boots when his former squad leader had four growing children needing robes and cauldrons, spellbooks and hats, gloves and telescopes? Yes, his soles might wear a bit thin by Christmas but he _**owed**_ Edgar. And there might be enough for boots, if Alastor was careful with his purchases.

"You'll come with us, won't you?" requested Edgar once more. "It's Amelia's first year at Hogwarts, and as her father, I _**should**_ help her pick out her school supplies. I really need you with me, Allie. I'm no good with crowds but with you there, I'd feel safe. Help me, please. For Ami's sake. She doesn't deserve a recluse for a father."

" Absolutely," agreed Alastor.

* * *

Edgar Bones ignored the staring of passerbys that his scarred mien earned. He once had been tall, blond and handsome but that was before the Dark Wizard carved up his face.

"Obviously they haven't seen two Order of Merlin winners in the same spot," was Edgar's quick witted retort. "Should have worn our medals."

"Yes, that's it," Alastor agreed. "Never seen two winners together before _**plus**_ such bloody handsome ones, too. Good thing you're married, Edgar, else they'd be wanting to have their way with you. Don't worry, I'll do the best I can to comfort them all."

His quip earned a roaring laugh from Edgar. It was good to be back with Edgar once more, as there was strong bond of trust and friendship twixt them. He could be _**Alastor**_ with Edgar.

"Would the two dashing Aurors mind entering Ollivander's so Amelia can get her wand?" Pru wryly asked.

The youngest Bone child was almost quivering in her excitement, and as always, Mr. Ollivander treated his youngest customer with the same level of respect as he did everyone else. His silver eyes intently gleamed when he recognized Edgar and Alastor; the heroes of the realm, however he focused on young Amelia. He took his time, took her measure and then after a suitable consultation, presented her with her wand, a mahogany masterpiece with a core that was a hair from a unicorn tail. A very pricy wand Alastor abruptly realized when Edgar and Pru exchanged quick glances.

"Mr. Ollivander," Moody interjected. "Now that Miss Bones' wand has selected her, I wonder if I might be able to discuss my wand with you. In private?"

The two men walked away from the Boneses and Alastor informed Ollivander that _**he**_ was paying for Amelia's wand. The surprisingly shrewd Ollivander offered a compromise, he'd charge Amelia's parents a small portion of the real cost.

"That way Mr. Bones can keep his pride. A father takes pleasure in the fact that he can purchase his daughter's wand for her. I'll charge him a galleon while you can pay the rest. Two galleons, Mr Moody. A discount in grateful recognition of you and Mr. Bones' contributions to the Wizarding Worlds' safety. I'm sorry that's the best I can do for you. It's just everything is so expensive these days. Plus with the war effort, there is a distinct lack of virgins to secure unicorn tail hair. As soon as most maidens are old enough to collect unicorn tail hair safely, they have already given their wizards a proper sendoff."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I need to have a consult with you as I'm having problems with my wand," Alastor explained to Ollivander. "Doesn't seem as responsive as it used to be."

Ollivander asked a few probing questions, determined the time frame of when the wand had become less reactive and then nodded his head.

"It's not unheard of," agreed Ollivander. "When your last squad member died, you experienced the latest in a series of traumatic events. You've changed, considerably, since you were the wide-eyed eleven year old picking out your first wand with Galatea Merrythought. That was your young man wand, now it's time to find your adult wand."

Alastor shifted uneasily while Ollivander stared at him. Then came the declaration he was fearing, how much he had changed due to recent events. "You used to be willow, very flexy and bendable, now you're Hornbeam with a dragonheart string core. Hornbean is also known as ironwood, surprisingly strong, and you most assuredly possess a dragon's heart, Auror Moody. "

And clink went the Galleons as they were handed over to Mr. Ollivander. Well, wands more important than fancy clothes. And the introverted Amelia deserved a familiar as it _**was**_ her first year at Hogwarts, so Alastor bought her a Kneazle, a little black tom while Edgar and Pru took care of the licensing required. Amelia got all teary because she had wanted it so bad but she had accepted that her parents couldn't afford to give her one. A secretly chuffed Alastor grumped and harrumphed before he took the Bones boys to Quality Quidditch Supplies for their Hogwarts send off gifts as the Bones boys were barking mad about Quidditch.

There went the Galleons for his new boots as Edgar, Jameson and Henry needed gloves and other gear. Really, Pru and Edgar would be able to rest much easier at home knowing that their boys had decent protective gear. And maybe there was a small part of Alastor that still wished he had been able to have a familiar or play Quidditch when he had first gone to Hogwarts.

As a Muggle orphan, his first few months at Hogwarts had been terrifying. Certainly would have liked something friendly and comforting when he was experiencing a whole new world. As a youngling, Alastor would have also appreciated proper robes that fit and weren't obviously 'scholarship' robes. HE had never had been a Quidditch star, unlike the Bones boys, because he had never tried out for Quidditch. No way would he have ever gotten on the Ravenclaw team because he only had the school's well used brooms to ride. So he watched on the sidelines, envious until the day he bought his first broom.

Naturally, the senior Bones were in a celebratory mood as they were getting the house back to themselves after having four kids, so Alastor insisted on buying a festive dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. The prices were sky-scraping, the food not as abundant as it once was, but spirits were still sky high. The meal demolished, everyone still had room for a sortie to the recently reopened Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, as no trip to Diagon Alley was complete without ice cream. Come winter, he'd be a bit cold until he saved up for a proper thick coat and scarf, but that was three months from now. Fortunately, he had the points necessary for a new jacket.

By now Edgar Senior was getting knackered, so they called it an afternoon.

Alastor got a verbal thrashing from both senior Bones because of the Galleons he had spent. He assured them that he had plenty left in Gringotts, not letting them know he had only a few knuts left to his name.

But really, the Bones needed the money more than he did.

* * *

"More tea?" Albus Dumbledore asked.

Galatea Merrythought agreed and smiled . "I'm so delighted that Beery has been able to grow tea in the greenhouses. Though I need a little bit of honey to sweeten it."

She put more than a dollop in her tea and she shook her head at the blaspheme of putting _**honey**_ in her tea. Professor Merrythought was a proper soul, which meant sugar cubes in her tea. "I'd prefer real sugar. You still haven't figured the correct way to Transfigure it into Sugar?"

"No," admitted Albus. "However, I've been able to turn honey into a delicious candy that the House Elves enjoy. Now, I wish to confess the real reason why I invited you to tea. You probably have noticed the rather hulking bear that is following me around these days."

"Alastor," the irrepressible Filius reminded Albus. "His name is _**Alastor**_."

"I believe that you might be correct. Filius, as his former House Head, what can you tell me about him?"

"Is the problem that there is a little unresolved sexual tension between you two?" Galatea quipped. "He does have delightfully broad shoulder so I can see the attraction. You should shag him, Albus."

While he was the renowned defeater of a Dark Lord, inside Albus Dumbledore was a shy, little boy. So he turned crimson and shook his head. While Alastor was broad-shouldered, Albus thought that he was also a bit of a paranoid prat.

"He's not my type, Galatea. Fortunately, he's aware of my inclinations and it doesn't seem to disturb him. However, I was hoping that if I knew a little bit about him," and here Albus paused.

"You two having problems?" Sharp-witted Filius shook his head. "Alastor is Alastor. Muggle-born, bloody brilliant but really...rough around the edges."

"Should have been one of my Badgers," Galatea protested. "Or one of your lions. He doesn't back down from a fight. He defended a pack of my badgers one time. Outnumbered and outwanded, Alastor gave the bullies a real thrashing sans wand. He gave Filius his very first grey hair with that escapade."

"Which I quickly Charmed away," admitted the dark haired Filius. "Bloody stunt could have killed him if the bullies had been smart enough to work as a team. Very well, what do you wish to know about Alastor? He was a ward of the court, as his mom and da had died in the Spanish flu outbreak. Galatea was the Instructor selected to invite him to Hogwarts and a devil of time we had getting him out of the orphanage. "

"I'll say," Galatea agreed. "Though the problem wasn't getting him out of the orphanage, it was returning him back at the end of the term. Seems he had a bit of reputation for 'odd things' happening when he was around and they were quite glad to get rid of him. Alastor was just crackling with magic so being a Muggle youngling,he had absolutely no control over it. If someone angered him, the magic would exert itself. The sisters of charity didn't want him back, so it was always a fight to get him back into the orphanage. By the time he was fourteen, Filius and I ...well, we just kept him for the summer."

A violation of every known school protocol.

"Galatea mainly did as Alastor hit his adult height early," Filius commiserated. Then Filius leaned toward Albus. "I wasn't surprised when he wanted to become an Auror. The Auror committee thought it strange that a Muggle-born wished to be an Auror, but I understood. His Da was a copper, so he wanted to be one. Smart boy, strong morals and a damn good duelist – you could certainly do a lot worse for him as your bodyguard."

"I've heard rumblings that the dueling club might be reactivated," Galatea confided. The matronly seeming witch' smile was bloodthirsty.

"Hell," Filius groaned. "Dippet approached me about it yesterday. The purebloods wish their children to have experience in dueling so he wishes the club reactivated. I think Albus should run it. He's got more recent dueling experience than me."

Normally any discussions about the great and glorious battle rubbed Albus raw. However, Filius was a dear friend and quite the duelist.

"Actually, you should have Alastor and Albus duel. Not to the death, mind you, but a few rounds of dueling should take the allure of it from the pures. They won't be so inclined to join the club when they realize that there's a lot of sweating involved." Galatea merrily laughed. "A three round duel, point system to determine the winner. No death or disarming your opponent. I'm sure we could trust them to keep it to a gentlewizards' duel."

"Fantastic idea!" The Charms Master was delighted. "I'll talk to Alastor and then approve it through Dippet."

"I didn't agree!" Albus protested. He had a new wand, fifteen inches of Elder wood with a Thestral tail hair core. It was balky and dangerous, and he certainly didn't want Alastor Moody obtaining it right after he had obtained it. Not that Albus believed that Alastor Moody would become another Gellert, but the wand was dangerous; best if it was hidden and in time, forgotten.

* * *

An extremely apprehensive Amelia Bones sat in the boat and wished it wasn't rocking so ferociously. Her brothers had warned her all about the Giant Squid that lived in the Lake. They had whispered how rumors had it that someone had drowned in the Lake as they had harassed the Squid. No doubt the Squid was rather feeling stroppy as his dwelling was being disrupted by what seemed to be hundreds of boats bearing the first years to Hogwarts.

Her Mum and her Da had sent her on to Hogwarts that morning, and she really desired to make her parents proud. Especially her Da as he had been hurt by the Dark Wizard Gellert Grindlewald's followers. And to think that one of her teachers would be the very wizard that had defeated Grindlewald. The more she thought about Albus Dumbledore teaching her, the more worried she became. What if she was _**slow**_? He had defeated Gellert, he would have no patience with a first year spac.

By the time she entered the great Hall, she was close to becoming completely unstuck. For the professor that greeted the first years was none other than _**HIM**_. Professor Dumbledore, brightly clad in primary colors, greeted the new students and explained in detail what Sorting would entail. Her anxiety took flight on a broom then. What if she Sorted into Gryffindor? He'd be her _**House Head**_!

The only reason Amelia didn't break down and start scriking then and there was because of the tall, grim figure next to _**HIM**_. It was her father's friend, Auror Moody. He had saved her Da's life after he had been injured and now Auror Moody was responsible for keeping Professor Dumbledore alive. Auror Moody had been so good to her family and he had promised to keep both eyes on her while she was at school. If Auror Moody was guarding _**HIM**_ , it would stand to reason that he was as capable a wizard as _**HE**_ was. Da and Auror Moody were blood brothers... but if she had problems with _**HIM**_ , Mr. Moody would get involved. The results would be that her parents would know! And Amelia had promised her Da that she'd be a good witch, studying hard and make him proud.

Auror Moody gave her a conspiratory wink. The secret wink made her feel so much better and when her name was called to be Sorted, she couldn't help but look at Auror Moody for reassurance. His quick grin reassured her and then she carefully sat on the stool. Then _**HE**_ placed an old leather hat on her head and Amelia struggled not to quiver.

 _What do we have_   
_  
**here**   
_   
_? We've got yet_   
_  
**another**   
_   
_Bones! I think you're the last Bones I need to sort for another two decades or so. So... where to put you._

 _Who are you?_ Amelia thought.

 _I'm the Sorting Hat, and I need to figure out where to place you. Hmm... you're a brave slip of a girl, intelligent to boot. Gryffindor would welcome you as your brothers have done well there._ There was a satisfaction in the Hat's tone as though the Sorting Hat had finished assigning her.

 _NO!_   
_  
**Not Gryffindor**   
_   
_!_

 _Why not?_

Amelia wouldn't admit anything and the Hat sighed, throwing up its non-existence hands in defeat. _You're quite the sensitive one, so_ ... _**HUFFLEPUFF!**_

Her brothers were gobstruck as she wouldn't be joining them in Gryffindor House. However Professor Beery was quite delighted as were the rest of her new Housemates. Perhaps Hogwarts wouldn't be that bad. For the most part, Amelia delightedly discovered that Hogwarts was wonderful. Professor Flitwick was kind and even tempered. He even gave her and Hufflepuff points on her very first class!

However her first Transfiguration class was a nightmare. A Slytherin tripped her before she entered the room and she dropped all her books. During roll call, she stammered her name and made an awful mess when she knocked over her ink bottle. Professor Dumbledore was not chuffed, she knew, so she wished she could turn herself invisible. But unfortunately Amelia was a conscientious student, so she had sat in the very front row of all her classes.

She studied hard, into the wee hours of the night, and she knew the answers to all the questions that Professor Dumbledore asked in class. However once she raised her hand, the answers flew from her mind as though they had been captured by a horde of Wrackspurts. Her Transfiguration essays were masterpieces of scholarly research while her exams were completely blank rolls of parchment.

And the Spells. No matter how hard she practiced, her Transfiguration spells never worked. Charms came easily to her and her potions class was a breeze.

Transfiguration, on the other hand, was Hell on Earth.

* * *

"Miss Bones?" Albus Dumbledore questioned.

The first year Hufflepuff had been attempting to fly from the classroom after dismissal. After Albus called her name, she squeaked, no doubt having stubbed her toe, and Albus motioned for her to come to his desk.

"We'll wait until everyone leaves," Albus commented. He gave Alastor Moody a shooing gesture and the Auror just quirked one eyebrow.

 _  
**Not LEAVING.**   
_

"Alastor," Albus requested. He tried to hide his displeasure with Alastor's mulishness but he feared he wasn't successful.

"No, Albus," the Auror retorted. "You know I won't leave. You can Muffliato me, but I'm _**not**_ leaving."

"I desire a private conversation with Miss Bones, so _**Muffliato**_!" Albus then called Alastor by name several times and the Auror didn't respond. "Very well, Miss Bones, can you please take a seat?"

The firstie sat next to Albus and she seemed nervous.

"You seem to be having some difficulty with the course material," Albus began in what he hoped was a friendly, non-confrontational tone. That declaration was an understatement as with the exception of her out of class assignments, Miss Bones was hitting new lows in his class. He had never before dealt with a student who was pulling Straight T's. Or constantly turned in empty parchment for exams even though she wrote volumes of notes! And to confuse him further, Herbert, Galatea and Filius were all raving about her. "I'm a little concerned... your homework doesn't match your work in the class."

Unlike others who he feared might be cheating in their homework assignments, Miss Bones didn't protest his suspicions or try to deny it. Instead, the firstie looked at him and pleaded, "You won't be telling my Da, will you? Please? I'll _**try**_ harder. I _**swear**_!"

Her earnestness was unexpected so he decided that she just needed a little remediation.

"Transfiguration is a difficult subject, so you just need a little extra help." He made up a schedule and presented it to her. "I'll assign you some extra credit assignments to help improve your grades."

Miss Bones thanked him and ran out of the class.

* * *

Alastor grew concerned as Amelia's extra study sessions with Albus seemingly made everything worse. No matter how hard she struggled, her frenzied wand waving and desperate pronunciations were never sufficient to create a Spell. Her Transfiguration homework assignments became textbook quality, suitable for publishing, her note writing in class became even more copious and her other grades were slipping to depths previously unseen at Hogwarts. Least that's what he picked up through eavesdropping on the staff's conversation regarding one Amelia Susan Bones. When Miss Tibby reported to him that a frantic Amelia had been found after hours in the library by House Elves, sobbing uncontrollably, Alastor knew he had to get involved. Fortunately, the House Elves had gotten Amelia back into her Common Room with none the wiser. They had tucked her into bed, so it appeared that she had fallen asleep in the Common Room while doing her homework.

If Amelia was having difficulty adjusting to Hogwarts, a detention would have just have been gravy on the roast.

"Heading out for a run," he informed Albus.

The Greatest Wizard ever to take a Leak but who Couldn't Color Coordinate his Robes to Save his Life nodded his head. He was busy grading assignments and those three reams of parchment he was examining for a foot long assignment could only be Amelia's.

Alastor decided it was necessary to have a bit of a dekko to locate Amelia. If he was a strung out student where would he be? First stop was the library and he found Amelia. Ink was smudged over her face and her fingers and there were three piles of books that were easily House Elf height. At the table there were two empty ink bottles and there was a third that was nearly dry, plus eight rolls of filled parchment. The firstie was scribbling in what could only be described as a frenzied fashion.

"Amelia?" Alastor whispered, careful not to bring them to the attention of the librarian. "It's Friday night, you _**shouldn't**_ be in the library. You should be in your Common Room having fun. You don't want to be known as a swot."

"I have Transfiguration homework, Mr. Moody," she whispered to him. "I have to get it _**perfect**_. I also have my extra credit assignment that I _**must**_ complete. I _**must**_ improve my grades."

"To hell with your Transfiguration homework. You have class on Tuesday, not tomorrow. Come on, I have a craving for something sweet. Want to steal some from the kitchen with me?" Alastor questioned.

"Mr. Moody," Amelia informed him in entirely too serious a tone for one so young. "I could get in a great deal of trouble."

"No, you won't, Amelia. Because we won't get caught as I'm a highly trained Auror," Alastor confided in her. "Tracking and sneaking are our specialties. I was trained by your Da, remember?"

She smiled; her first smile in far too long and she nodded.

* * *

Fortunately, the always obliging Miss Tibby was in the kitchen so the House Elf made up quite the platter of sweets. He and Amelia munched in silence for a bit before Alastor began to question her. He was careful about his inquisition as Amelia wasn't a Dark Wizard; she was just an extremely stressed eleven year old. To make himself more approachable, he told about his own struggles adjusting to Hogwarts especially the difficulties he had in Charms. It was a bit of a lie as schoolwork had come easy to him, but the making of friends had been the difficult part.

Radiating avuncular concern and a nonjudgmental aura, Alastor hoped to promote a feeling of trust, so she could confide in him. Alastor was stunned by how well it worked when Amelia spontaneously hugged him before she broke down into tears. He let her sob out her anxiety, letting her voice how she was disappointing her parents because she was thick and how Professor Dumbledore frightened her. After her last tear was shed, Alastor decided that he'd help her.

Well, yes, he wasn't supposed to help the students. He was there just to ensure that one of the little Hogwarts students didn't turn into a Dark Wizard and murder Albus Dumbledore, savior of the universe. Yet, this was Edgar's daughter. He couldn't help but remember how Edgar had pleaded with Clary, Erik and Alastor to keep an eye on his family. His right arm torn asunder by the dark wizards, Edgar had been in danger of bleeding out but his concern had only been on his family, especially young Amelia. Alastor had sworn on his Blood Brother Oath to watch over Edgar's family.

"I'll help you with your Transfiguration spells as long as you don't tell anyone," Alastor finally offered. "Don't tell your father and don't tell Professor Dumbledore."

"You'll really help me?" She repeated as if in complete disbelief.

"Yes, but it will be our little secret."

"No," Amelia earnestly assured him. "I won't tell anyone."

"Neither will I. Auror's oath," was his response. "Now, what was that butterfly spell again? The one where you turn dust into butterflies? Papillion este pulverize?"

Deliberately, he had mispronounced the spell after making sure that were no butterflies within spell distance. He'd hate to pulverize the little fluttering things into dust.

"Papilio ex pulvis," she informed him while he non-verbally cast the spell. Not that her pronunciation was incorrect but magical results depended on confidence. If your assurance had gone a burton, then your spells were doomed to failure. Amelia was in dire need of a nonjudgmental, friendly assist in her magic.

They were rewarded with a rabble of butterflies that fluttered about the Great Hall. Amelia's face glowed with happiness as she realized that her spell had finally worked.

It had, with a little assist from Alastor.

A joyful Amelia took her wand and gestured at a cup. It turned into a Chiffchaff and zipped away on its new wings. A serviette was turned into a bouquet of flowers which Amelia then offered to Miss Tibby as a thank you for the sweets.

Amelia was a nice girl, a delighted Alastor noted. A polite slip of a girl that treated House Elves properly. Even though her wizarding blood was as pure as any Malfoy or Black.

And the last two spells had been completely her own Magic.

"Now, you look knackered, so off with you. We'll meet every night and work on your Transfiguration. You've got the talent, you just need more confidence in yourself," was Alastor's sage advice. Then he estimated the number of butterflies that had been magicked into existence and whistled in amazement. "Looks like the Great Hall really needed dusting."

Fortunately, Miss Tibby wasn't around to hear that comment.

* * *

Unbeknownst to either of them, Fawkes had been delightedly watching the raree show. He was partial to butterflies as they were _**almost**_ as pretty as he was. The fact that Amelia Bones' Transfiguration block had been broken by the grim Alastor Moody was far too juicy a nugget not to share with Albus.

He found his mage working through Amelia's latest assignment. He landed on his mage's shoulder and trilled in Albus' ear.

"I'm grading assignments," Albus protested.

 _  
**The little skeleton girl... she finally created butterflies from dust!**   
_

"Amelia?" Albus questioned. "She completed her extra credit assignment? By herself?"

 _  
**The little skeleton girl! Bear-man helped her!**   
_

Bear-man was Fawkes' less than flattering name for Alastor as he had picked that image from Albus' mind.

"You're telling me that Alastor helped Amelia with her extra credit assignment?" Albus asked.

 _  
**Yes. There are easily a thousand, thousand butterflies in the Great Hall.**   
_

Damn it, Alastor was not supposed to become involved with the education of the students! He had promised andyet he had deliberately broken that oath.

It was a well kept secret but as Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus could Disapparate and Apparate as needed within the castle walls. He popped into the Great Hall to discover Amelia Bones hugging a crouching Alastor Moody. And yes, there were easily a million butterflies currently in the Great Hall. Unaware that they were being watched, Amelia said goodbye to 'Mr. Moody' and released him. She turned and saw Professor Dumbledore.

She panicked and jumped behind Alastor.

"Miss Bones? Are these your butterflies?" Albus Dumbledore softly questioned. He held out his hand and several of the butterflies landed on his hand.

The firstie shyly nodded her head.

Albus took his time and carefully examined each butterfly, checking the colors, inspecting the wings and counting the spiracles and number of legs.

"Wonderfully done, Miss Bones. Five points Hufflepuff," Albus announced. "I am afraid that I can't give you class credit on the assignment however. It was a _**solo**_ assignment."

Amelia's grin faded and she looked at Alastor. Her shoulder slumped as she whispered, "No credit?"

"Go get some sleep, Amelia," Alastor's tone was rough. "You look exhausted."

"May I be excused, Professor?" the Hufflepuff requested.

"You're excused, Miss Bones. However Auror Moody and I have to talk," Albus announced.

"Yes, we must certainly do," was Alastor's response.

* * *

"You left your suite _**without**_ a guard," growled Alastor. "Never thought you were a divvy, but I guess you are. Or are you feeling lucky?"

Albus refused to get sidetracked. "You are not _**supposed**_ to be teaching the students, Alastor. You're _**not**_ trained. You're _**not**_ qualified."

"Don't get your silken knickers in a knot. Yes, I'm just a dogsbody, your minder, your char-wallah. You snap your fingers and I show up to pour your fecking tea. However, somebody had to help that poor girl as you bodged it. Right cack-handed, that's what you are. You had the poor girl twisted in knots; she was so terrified of you that she was spending all her time studying Transfiguration. Amelia was convinced she was a gormless idiot thanks to your highly trained handling of her."

"What do you mean? I did _**no**_ such thing," protested Albus.

"You must know her Da, Edgar? He was mentioned in despatches to the Ministry while he was on the Eastern Front until he got carved up by one of Gellert's Dark Wizards. Anyway, Miss Bones has worked herself in quite the state because her teacher is the Grand Defeater of Dark Wizards, Protector of Innocents and all around Prat who Terrifies First Years into Piddling on themselves. Your grand and glorious reputation absolutely terrified her. You frightened her so badly that she couldn't use her magic."

In turn, Albus presented the argument that Alastor Moody was the one responsible for frightening the students. The grim Auror greeted each student as they entered the classroom, scanned them with his wand and walked up and down the aisles of the class.

In rebuttal, Alastor presented his hypothesis that Albus was a badly dressed, royal pain in the arse that was having a bit of an eppy because he couldn't deal with Alastor. That Dumbledore wished for nothing more than an arse licker who would be so much in awe of the great Albus Dumbledore that Albus could override any suggestions on his safety they might make. He also suggested that perhaps Albus Dumbledore was secretly disappointed that he was only capable of intimidating eleven year old girls because Alastor Moody _ **wasn't**_ bloody intimidated by him.

Their argument grew heated after that and Reggie Baxter, Minister of Magic was dispatched to Hogwarts.

* * *

Reginald listened to both men in tandem and then separately. He kept his face composed though inwardly he was wondering why being Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore's marital counselor was akin to being a referee at a Quidditch match.

The two wizards' protest over Alastor being assigned as Albus was duly noted. Both men were beyond irate with the other man and his supposedly intractable obdurate nature. Naturally, they were quite vocal about it.

Baxter requested Herbert Beery speak with Amelia regarding Alastor's tutoring. He kept himself completely out of it as it was a Hogwarts matter. That portion of the interview took longer as Amelia got upset and required a Calming Draft. House Elves were interviewed and the recent incident in the library was revealed.

Tibby, a matronly House Elf, explained that Mr. Auror Moody had requested that she keep an eye on Miss Amelia. Having found the exhausted girl sobbing in the library, the House Elves had taken it upon themselves to tuck her into bed. Without notifying her House Head as the little girl had been utterly terrified about a possible detention. Tibby was worried that she had done wrong in the matter, but Reggie assured her on his position of Minister of Magic that she had acted correctly.

That done, Reggie pulled in Alastor, Albus, Herbert Beery and Hogwarts Headmaster Armando Dippet. Herbert and Armando were instructed that Miss Bones was having severe difficulty adjusting to Hogwarts and that they were required to intervene. Reggie had no shame with bludgeoning both men with reminders of how her father was a national hero. He dismissed them and then turned to face Alastor and Albus.

"Albus, if your reputation is such here at Hogwarts that a traumatized firstie nearly overworked herself into a complete collapse, you _**need**_ to work on it. If Alastor tells you that are terrorizing firsties, you _**will**_ listen to him. On the other hand, Alastor, you know you're not supposed to assist the students, and I'm guessing that the reason you only got involved with this matter is because it's Edgar's daughter."

Alastor nodded his head once.

"Alastor, your loyalty to Edgar does you credit. However, your primary loyalty must be to Albus. He must take precedence over all your alliances _**except to me**_. Is that _**understood**_?"

A somber Alastor again nodded his head.

"And you two will stay together as we discussed earlier this month. The simple fact of the matter is you are both too bloody dangerous to be let out in public without a minder. You've been, _**alone**_ , on the frontlines for too damn long, Alastor and Albus, you defeated Gellert. Gellert's followers, they _**are**_ reforming, they _**will**_ be coming after you. Not _**if,**_ but _**when**_. When the attack occurs, your best chance for survival, along with all those around you, is for you to have followed all of Alastor's instructions. He stayed alive on the front for _**three**_ fecking years, Albus, so he _**knows**_ defense. I know perfectly well, Albus, that you didn't anticipate surviving your battle with Gellert. So while you might be fantastic as a duelist, you're utter pants on defense. And we need to get Alastor reintegrated into peacetime society, Albus."

Reggie then dropped the surprise.

"I've requested that Filius Flitwick restart the dueling club. Tonight, you two will give a demonstration on dueling techniques. You _**will**_ beat the hell out of each other so you can excise your animosity to each other."

The Minister of Magic nodded his head in approval.

"Like bloody hell I _**will**_ ," both wizards said in chorus. "I just want _**him**_ to listen to _**me**_!"

The two wizards turned and looked at each.

"And the other reason why I put you two together is because, really, you're far more similar you'd ever want to admit."

"IMPOSSIBLE!" The two wizards protested.


	3. The Phoenix and the Bear Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I've requested that Filius Flitwick restart the dueling club. Tonight, you two will give a demonstration on dueling techniques. You  
>  **will** beat the hell out of each other so you can excise your animosity to each other."_

_"I've requested that Filius Flitwick restart the dueling club. Tonight, you two will give a demonstration on dueling techniques. You **will** beat the hell out of each other so you can excise your animosity to each other."_

 _The Minister of Magic nodded his head in approval._

 _"Like bloody hell I **will** ," both wizards said in chorus. "I just want **him** to listen to **me**!"_

 _The two wizards turned and looked at each._

 _"And the other reason why I put you two together is because, really, you're far more similar you'd ever want to admit."_

 _"IMPOSSIBLE!" The two wizards protested._

Reggie Baxter held up his hand to silence both men. He was a political grandmaster and while Alastor and Albus might be the bloody Heroes of the realms, they were mere babes in affairs of state. Therefore he knew how to manipulate the two men into doing exactly what was required. No doubt it would be painful for both men, but really, personal healing and growth were oftentimes painful experiences.

"You're doing it," Reggie snapped. "Because I have far better ways of spending my limited free time than providing marital counseling to you two."

"Marital? Try more like martial," was Alastor's quick retort.

Headmaster Dippet entered the room and requested Albus find the three Bones boys.

"We require at least one of them in the infirmary with Miss Bones. Herbert is finding her Kneazle and we'll need to get her parents here. She's really quite ill," Dippet explained. "We might have to send her home but I'm not sure if her parents will be able to take care of her. I understand that her father still requires a great deal of care?"

"What?" Albus questioned. His question was completely stampeded by Alastor who was demanding an explanation.

"Miss Bones has a case of adrenal fatigue. It's a Muggle condition; one which fortunately our Matron was familiar. Her adrenal glands are not producing... something... so that would explain her excessive nervousness. Stressful situations can cause the illness to flare up." Headmaster Dippet explained.

Alastor jabbed Albus Dumbledore in the ribs. "I think we know who can be considered the stressful situation for poor Miss Bones. Just in case you don't, it was _**you**_."

"Alastor..." Albus pleaded. Really, while he might be the local Dark Lord Defeater, Albus Dumbledore did not relish being a firstie's nightmare made flesh and given form.

"Alastor," Reggie's tone was sharp. It was a verbal reprimand and Alastor nodded his head in acknowledgment of the Minister's rebuke.

"Reggie?" Alastor questioned in a soft voice. The two men looked at each before Reggie nodded his head.

The Minister of Magic then spoke. "Yes. I'll get Edgar and Prudence here. Armando? Can you please lower the Appartion barriers so I can get Edgar into the infirmary? I'm not sure if he's up to doing much walking."

The Headmaster agreed and Alastor tersely interrupted."The plan is this. Albus, send Fawkes with Reggie. Then when we get notification from Reggie via Fawkes that they're coming, Headmaster Dippet can lower the barrier for no more than two minutes. I'll also want Professors Merrythought and Flitwick with us during the time the barrier is down. Get as many of the rest of the professors here as possible, I'll use them all."

"Agreed," Reggie decided.

"Albus, get that feather duster you call a familiar here," Alastor ordered. "Time is fleeting, so we need to get Edgar and Pru here."

"He's a _**phoenix**_. Not an _**owl**_ , not a _**feather duster**_ ," protested Albus.

"And my name is _**Alastor**_ , not _**Bear Man**_ ," retorted the Auror. He was rewarded with Albus Dumbledore appearing as though he wished to Obliviate everyone.

"Bear man?" Reggie repeated. He was obviously confused.

"Damn thing insists on watching me when I bathe, seems he's enjoying the peep show, so I splashed him. Bloody feather duster was quite vocal about it, Phoenixes do not like being drenched with water," Alastor tersely explained. "Bad enough that my promised suite of rooms turns out to be a very large cupboard, but I also have to deal with a Peeping Phoenix who thinks I look like a bear. Now get your familiar here. And tell him no _**cursing**_. For something that prides himself on being bright and beautiful, he swears like a pirate's parrot."

"Fawkes, please come to me," Albus requested. Then he questioned Alastor, "Fawkes _**talks**_ to you?"

That was queer, as Fawkes rarely 'talked' to anyone. Just a few select people and now Fawkes had decided to chat with Alastor... Bear Man... Albus knew that he'd never hear the end of it.

"Talks to me? The combustible Chiffchaff won't stop chattering. Now, it's time to locate the Bones boys."

* * *

Amelia Bones swallowed the vile potion. Matron Maloney tested her head for fever and the matron shook her head.

"Please?" requested Amelia.

"No, you _**can't**_ have your Transfiguration homework," the Matron explained. "You need to sleep, Amelia."

"I _**must**_ finish it," a wan Amelia protested. "It _**must**_ be perfect. It _**has**_ to be! Professor wouldn't give me any points for my butterflies and I _**can't**_ lose any points on my homework."

There was a soft pop as Tibby the House Elf appeared in the ward. In her arms, she held a wiggly black Kneazle. There was also a small basket holding Amelia's jimjams at the House Elf's feet.

"You brought Allie!" Amelia exclaimed. She held out her arms and the black Kneazle leaped into his Mistress' arms. The Keazle sniffed over his Mistress and then began to loudly purr. "Thank you, Miss Tibby. I was scared about Allie. He'd be lonely and scared without me. "

Perhaps it would be more truthful to say that Allie's mistress would be lonely and scared without Allie, but sometimes it was best to let sleeping dragons slumber.

"Let's get you changed into your jimjams and then tuck you into bed. Normally, I don't let familiars stay in the ward with my patients," Matron Maloney explained.

That earned a distinctive quiver of Amelia's lips.

"He's my _**friend**_ ," the firstie insisted. "I know Allie Cat is just a Kneazle, but he's my _**only**_ friend here. He doesn't mind that I'm daft."

"Tibby not agreeing! Miss Amelia isn't daft!" The House elf insisted. "Tibby believing that Miss Amelia is sweet and kind. Miss Amelia given Tibby _**flowers**_."

The poor firstie was on the verge of tears once again and well... Allie Cat was being a very well behaved Kneazle. It certainly wouldn't do to needlessly cause Amelia Bones any additional emotional trauma. The ickle thing was quite convinced that Professor Dumbledore hated her because she was a daft prat.

And if her Kneazle kept Amelia calm...

"And I believe that you're not daft, but instead you are quite ill, Amelia. I'll let Allie stay with you as long as he behaves himself. That means _**no**_ messes," the mediwitch announced.

There was a brief smile from Amelia once the reprieve was granted.

"Tibby will be keeping Miss Amelia's ward tidy. Tibby wanting Matron to know that Tibby _**not**_ allowing messes." The House Elf explained.

* * *

The various Bones boys were up to no good, so they appeared guilty as hell when Alastor and Albus finally located them.

"Your sister's ill, we're taking you to the infirmary," thundered Alastor. "Edgar, Jameson and Henry, your father and mother are on their way here, and you lot better have a good reason for not watching over your little sister."

The boys protested, loudly insisting that Amelia had never mentioned anything was a matter, that she had been a little swot, always working on her Transfiguration homework whenever they had talked to her. Meanwhile, Albus was futilely protesting Alastor's rough handling of the situation.

"She's not in our house!" Edgar vainly protested.

Alastor grabbed Edgar by his ear.

"She's your _**sister**_! You better learn this quick, boy; you _**always**_ take care of your _**own**_. I understand that you're busy with Miss Ceilí, but your father specifically asked you, as the oldest, to keep your eye on Amelia. "

A horrified Edgar turned green.

"You know about Ceilí?" gasped a stunned Edgar. "You're not gonna tell my mum are you?"

"That you were too busy with Miss Ceilí in the Quidditch Pitch to care about your sister? No, _**you**_ can tell her. I won't tell her where your bloody hands were because you'd be married off by Christmas. Jameson and Henry, you two are younger, but I've still kept my eyes on you. When your Da was bleeding out in the fields of France, I _**swore**_ to him that I'd keep an eye on his family. You boys should be ashamed."

"I swear, I asked the Professors about her. I asked Professors Beery, Flitwick and Merrythought about her. They said she was doing well, that she was a little bit quiet but very studious," defended Edgar. "I asked all her professors about her."

"Really? Albus? Did Edgar Bones bother to talk to you about his sister?" growled Alastor.

"No," Albus inserted. "I had thought to discuss the matter with him but I thought it best to speak to Miss Bones first."

"Well, no, I didn't talk to Professor Dumbledore..." the eldest Bones boy admitted. "Because...well... he's ... _**Professor Dumbledore..."**_

"Yes, last time I looked, he's bloody Albus Dumbledore, just like he's been for the last ninety odd years, so why didn't you talk to him about your sister?" Alastor continued to hammer Edgar. Meanwhile Albus thought it prudent to refrain from commenting that he was in the same room and that he was only _**sixty four**_ years young.

Eventually, Henry jumped to his brother's defense. "Mr. Moody, everyone is _**scared**_ of him. Because... because... of... You Know... We don't want him to throw a benny."

"Wazzock," was Alastor's inelegant comment.

* * *

Really, he had defeated Gellert, was it necessary to play Ring around the Rosie with him in the middle? The various Professors of Hogwarts had protectively encircled him and Alastor was Death Incarnate. While some people would have thought it best to hide him far away from the vulnerable area, Alastor had decided that Albus should be there. In the unlikely cause of an invasion of Gellert's followers, he could help defend Hogwarts. As Alastor not so gently reminded him, the attack would be his fault.

There was a flash and Fawkes landed on Albus' shoulder. Headmaster Dippet gestured and Albus sensed the barriers lowered momentarily. There was another flash and there were now three new people in the hallway. Reggie was back along with a tall, dark haired woman and a gasping man.

"Sit down, Eddie," Alastor barked. His sage counsel was ignored as the heavily scarred man stood up straight as though pulling himself together. That equilibrium reaffirmed, he charged, _**directly**_ , at Albus Dumbledore.

"What did you do to my daughter?" He growled. "What did _**you**_ do to my Amelia?"

Edgar's evident desire to pummel Albus Dumbledore was prevented by the broad shouldered Alastor Moody. The Auror jumped between the two men and he faced down the very angry Edgar Bones.

"Eddie," Alastor's voice was a far cry from his usual strident tones. "Calm down, Eddie."

"She's in the infirmary because of _**him**_ ," protested Amelia's concerned father.

"Eddie..." Alastor repeated. "It's _**not**_ Albus' fault. Amelia is ill and she needs her Da to be there for her. Pru?"

"The Minister said that Amelia was overwrought regarding her Transfiguration class," her mother commented. "That she was up to all hours studying Transfiguration because she was fearful of failing. That's what caused this disease of hers to flare up."

"Yes, she was studying too hard. Amelia's a sensitive little girl. She frets and she takes everything to heart," Alastor reminded Edgar. "Remember, you told me that, Eddie. Amelia's _**delicate**_. And if wasn't her Transfiguration homework, it would have Charms or Potions. She's been under a great deal of stress recently, Eddie. "

"You should have _**noticed**_ ," Edgar said to Albus. "You didn't once notice that you terrified her? The only reason I let her go to Hogwarts was because I thought you'd keep her safe. All of you. She wished to stay home and be homeschooled because she didn't wish to leave me. I told her... _**promised**_ her... that she'd _**love**_ Hogwarts."

The small, slight Filius Flitwick interrupted. "Mr. Bones, I'm Filius Flitwick, I'm your daughter's professor in Charms. I won't shirk my responsibilities in what happened. I failed your daughter as I believed that she was horribly shy. This term, I find myself in a difficult position. So many children traumatized, so many have lost parents, lost siblings and the muggle born... oh those poor souls..."

The sensitive Filius wiped his tearing eyes. "They been through so much with the Muggle War, and now, they're in some place new... and they're finding out that our world is still recovering from our own war. And we teachers... we've experienced our own losses and we're exhausted from facing our own dragons. It's not an excuse, Mr. Bones, but I beg you to understand that we did not intentionally fail your daughter. There's just so many of them and so few of us."

Reggie, the Minister of Magic, spoke to Edgar.

"You need to calm down, Edgar. Amelia needs her Da and her Mum right now. You need to be calm and compassionate," suggested Reggie. "Professor Merrythought, would you be kind enough to escort the Boneses to Amelia's ward? The Matron is waiting for them."

"Come on, Edgar. Hitting Albus Dumbledore can wait, as we need to see Amelia," Prudence insisted. She hooked her arm through her husband's arm and attempted to pull him away. His shoulders slumped and he rubbed his head with his existing hand.

"You know, Allie. It's always the innocent ones..." he reminded Alastor. "The ones that need the most protection. Amelia... Clarence... Erik."

"Aye," was Alastor's slow response. "Aye. That's why bastards like you and me will be around forever."

* * *

The barriers being raised once more, the various professors left the hallway. The Minister of Magic smiled at Alastor. It was a sincere, genuine smile that Alastor didn't trust one damn iota. He knew Reggie after all, knew Reggie damn well.

"I know that was difficult for you, Alastor," the Minister began in a conciliatory tone.

" _ **Don't**_... I should have let Eddie clatter him one. However, I have my orders and I _**will**_ follow them. That's what's Senior Auror Bones taught me. Now, Albus, do you want to return to your quarters? " Alastor's question was more akin to a command.

"Actually, I was hoping to find out how Miss Bones is doing," admitted a rather somber Albus. "You truly didn't help her with the butterflies?"

"I just gave her a boost of confidence," was his guard's response. "It was all her own magic, along with turning the cup into a Chiffchaff..."

"Miss Bones did what?" Albus interrupted. "That's not a first year assignment."

"She Transfigured a cup into a Chiffchaff. I would have shown it to you but you were too busy being a purple prannet," Alastor growled. "Plus it flew away."

"Alastor, you will keep a civil tongue in your head, as we are in a _**public**_ setting." Reggie's tone was mild but his eyes were narrowed in disapproval.

"Amelia also created a bouquet of flowers from a serviette. I don't reckon that's part of the first year studies. Albus, I really don't think you being at her bedside is a brill idea, unless you're planning on an encore of hysteria. And Reg, don't you start nattering about a public setting, because really, Albus, for Amelia's own good, let the poor girl get some sleep."

* * *

Alastor locked Albus into Albus' quarters. Moody then returned back to the Infirmary, leaving Albus alone with Fawkes. Albus retreated to his bedroom and put some music on the gramophone.

"I actually have to confess that I rather like him," a rather subdued Albus explained to his familiar. "He is a very honest, very sincere man, and he truly dislikes me. Since the battle, I find myself surrounded by those who wish to be my friend just because of my notoriety. Who believe I can help them with their political goals. It's rather refreshing to have someone with whom I know exactly where I stand."

Fawkes, wisely, said not a word.

"I must confess that this matter with Miss Bones reminds me..." Albus paused and then wiped his eyes. "Of a certain self-absorbed prat ... Dear God, why must I keep repeating my mistakes over and over again."

888888888888888888

Alastor Moody sat in the hallway and when Edgar Bones came out of the infirmary, he stood. It was a show of respect for his old squad leader and a way to quietly assist him with a hand when he sat down.

"Don't worry, I'm calmer now," Bones promised Alastor. "Reggie slapped me hard for my misbehavior and has severely punished me for my misbehavior. I'm also to apologize to Professor Dumbledore."

"And what did Reggie do?" Alastor asked.

"He nominated me for one of the empty slots on the Wizengamot."

"THAT **_BASTARD -_** he's got you by your short hairs!" An amused Alastor spat. "I'm afraid that means you're one of the Establishment, boyo."

They sat down in companionable silence for a bit before Edgar glared at him.

"Auror, the soles of your boots are looking a might thin," Edgar chastised. "You represent the Ministry, and that means you are _**presentable**_ at _**all**_ times."

In response, Alastor quirked an eyebrow and then looked at his soles. "Looks like you're right."

"You should get them fixed," was his squad leader's suggestion. "You shouldn't have spent your galleons on my children. You need proper boots, Auror."

"Clarence was the Hedge Wizard. He was nifty at fixing things, but I'm no good at it. They're not that bad, really, and your daughter couldn't wear Henry's seconds."

Edgar nodded his head in acknowledgment of those basic truths and they waited in silence. "Amelia's drifting off to sleep since Prudence is with her. Her Kneazle is also insisting on sharing her pillow. How's the form?"

"I'm fine," admitted Alastor. "Absolutely wonderful. I made it off the Front in one piece and now I have the awesome responsibility of minding the greatest wizard to ever take a leak, well, since Merlin at least. Tomorrow, we're going shopping as he needs a new robe to match his eyes. I have already informed him that he will carry his own shopping bags."

That vitriol earned a shake of Edgar's head.

"You ever gonna tell me what _**really**_ happened with you three lads after I got hurt?" Edgar questioned.

"Clarence and Erik both died, fighting like heroes," was Alastor's immediate response. "Good men. Bloody good men."

"When the anger fades, Alastor, and the ache lessens enough for you to talk, you find me," Edgar demanded. "I read the dispatches. I _**really**_ read the dispatches; I know you heavily edited. And I'm guessing whatever has you in knots has to do with Erik."

"He _**shouldn't**_ have been out on the Front. He was too damn young." Alastor spat.

"Reggie asked for volunteers and..."

"I know; I _**know**_. His only volunteers were a bloody bunch of misfits. A Hedge, a mudblood Hardchaw and..."

" _ **Erik**_ ," Edgar insisted. "Yes, Clarence was born of Beltane and he was casting low-level hedge wizardry when he was all of two. But he was _**never**_ a Hedge to me and I _**never**_ , _**ever**_ disparaged the blood in your veins, Alastor. And Erik's sexual preference didn't matter a knut to me. I never let on that I knew he secretly fancied me. I found his crush flattering, considering how much older I was."

"I still don't know why you decided to be our Squad Leader," confessed Alastor.

"I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to go out on the Front and leave Pru home with all the younglings. Yet you three saw the Darkness. You knew that Gellert was just another Herpo the Foul and you wished to fight. And while the bloody Pures of the Auror corps refused to do a damn thing, you three stupid prats decided it was up to you."

"Erik and Clarence were just sprogs and you were their big brother. How could I let you three wolfound puppies hunt wolves? I thought with my experience, I'd get you three lads home safe and sound. Yes, that's what you're hearing... the sweet sound of hubris," mocked Edgar. "And my pups ended up saving my life."

"You still did better than I did, Edgar. Under my command, I got them both killed and my reward for doing such a bang up job for our Ministry is _**now**_ I have to keep Albus Dumbledore alive. He won't listen to a damn thing I say. I must prevent his assassination. You know as well as I do, Gellert's followers _**will**_ come after him. Not if, but _**when**_ , and he won't do what I say. He treats it like we're on a jolly holiday!"

He said too much as Edgar narrowed his eyes.

"I seem to remember you bemoaning that about Clarence once or twice," chastised Edgar. "Usually when he was walking on a ley line. However, you must admit, Clarence's traipsing on his ley lines kept us safe because Gellert's blokes believed ' _Real Mages don't bother with Hedge Wizardry'_."

Alastor shook his head and Edgar continued.

"A trio of misfit wolfhound pups helped save Eastern Europe. You succeeded because you were a bunch of oddities that made the very angels weep in fear for your lives. You with your obscene knowledge of Muggle machinery. Gellert's people were looking for you in the skies, listening to hear you Apparate in. Instead you three were riding on motorcycles or scutting a ride from Muggle farmers. Clary's ability to hide you boys in broad daylight because of his Hedging tricks, and Erik's ability to speak six languages and his talent at charming the ladies."

"And the laddies," barked Alastor with a dry laugh. "Eddie, I'm just not up to handling Albus. It's always don't do this, don't do that. For fuck's sake, Eddie, I've turned into a bloody harridan. After I finally got off the front I thought... I hoped I could relax. I'm ... melted, Eddie. The tiredness...it is in my bones, it's my soul. And when Albus Dumbledore is attacked, I may not be up to it. I can't add another death to my conscience."

Edgar nodded once. Then swooped in for the kill. "When's the last time you flahed, lad?"

"If you're gonna ask about my sex life, I will start asking about you and Pru." Alastor retorted. He knew his face was flushing and Edgar was noting that he was embarrassed.

"I know you're extremely partial to the ladies, Alastor. And as your former squad leader, I'm not supposed to know that you and Clarence had decided... to ensure that Erik." Edgar paused and then continued. "I'm wondering if that is what is eating you alive right now.'

"No, he didn't die a virgin," admitted a somber Alastor. "After Clarence's death... I knew that there was no way we were getting out of Hell alive. I regularly bedded the boy, I struggled to make it enjoyable for him. I fear that he fell in love with me."

"And you?" Edgar asked. Thank God, Edgar was being nonjudgmental. No, Edgar was being a rock, a sounding board that Alastor desperately needed.

"No. We were brothers-in-arms. I loved him but I _**wasn't**_ in love with him. He was a sensitive lad, Eddie. The last few months... the steady carnage, it got to be too much for him. I ordered him to take a report to Reggie because I knew Reggie would see that Erik needed to get the fuck off the Front. He wouldn't go because he didn't want to abandon me. It got bad... really bad...as we didn't have the skill with Hedging that Clarence possessed. Gellert's wizards... they kept coming after us... and hitting us over and over again. We were barely sleeping and we were more than half-crazed, believing everyone was one of Gellert's people. Erik finally broke from the stress... There was a band of people... They were Sinti fleeing from the Nazis. I kept telling Erik that they were _**civvies**_. He wouldn't listen... and... I couldn't let him kill them. There were _**children**_ , Edgar. Ickle ones. Some of them were no older than Amelia."

Edgar put his arm around Alastor, pulled him close.

"Reggie knows, I'm sure of it. I did my best to hide all the traces, but he _**knows**_. I fear that he's put the two of us together because Albus Dumbledore is probably the only wizard that's capable of putting me down if I'm too far gone."

There.

Alastor had admitted his fear.

The true reason why he dare not be too friendly with one Albus Dumbledore.

When Edgar Bones finally spoke, he didn't mouth the platitudes that Alastor had feared to hear.

 _  
**You're a normal person acting normally to abnormal events.**   
_

"I shrive you, Brother Alastor, of the misdeeds and transgressions that you believe you have committed. I offer you this because as your brother, I _**understand**_. What happened to you does not change anything between us. We are brothers, and brothers we will remain as we've gone through hell together."

That did it. Alastor wept like a babe and Edgar continued to hug him.

* * *

It had taken many hours, but at last, an exhausted Albus had formulated a plan, a proper plan, to assist Ms. Bones. Minerva MacKenzie, the Gryffindor Head Girl, had agreed to tutor the firstie. Amelia could therefore retake her exams with the Head Girl and demonstrate her skills at Transfiguration. Then Minerva would report back to him and he'd be able to grade her. Minerva was a natural born teacher and she was quite patient with the younger Gryffindors who often approached her for assistance.

And Silvanus Kettleburn had offered to show Amelia a _**unicorn foal**_. Fortunately, Galatea Merrythought had insisted that she be present when Silvanus was with Amelia. Galatea proclaimed that she wished to see the foal also. However, she had confided in Albus that since Silvanus was still on probation, it would be best if she were there. Just in case it went all pear shaped.

Filius had also made some suggestions on how Albus could seem more approachable, a shade less intimidating to the students.

And Fawkes... Fawkes had suggested that Miss Bones be responsible for keeping his water dish clean and full in the Transfiguration classroom. Albus wasn't persuaded about the necessity of doing that, especially when Fawkes had requested that Amelia be given a box of Phoenix treats so Fawkes could be assured his daily allotment.

Really, Albus was a bit verklempt over terrorizing an eleven year old girl so badly that she required hospitalization. Was it truly necessary for Fawkes to add Phoenixy Abandonment to his list of High Crimes and Misdemeanors?

 _ **No. It would demonstrate that you believe her to be a dependable student. That you trust her with your most valuable companion.**_ Fawkes bespoke that at him. _**Plus, you've forgotten to give me my treats the last three days.**_ _**And thankfully Tibby has refreshed my water bowl. I thanked her by singing for her.**_

"I'm so glad that your manners remain intact," retorted Albus. "Speaking of which, you are _**no**_ longer to call Alastor Bear-Man."

Fawkes blew a ring of smoke in response, which was a polite way of telling Albus to go scratch.

"His name is Alastor. You must _**not**_ call him Bear-man. It's _**not**_ polite! And you are to leave him in private when he bathes! He does not need your assistance to bathe."

In response, the intractable Fawkes stared at his talon.

"Fawkes, what must I do to convince you to stop calling him that? To give him privacy?"

 _You didn't say **please**._

" _Please_? I have to live with him and it would be so much easier if you didn't call him that," pleaded Albus. "I can't convince Hogwarts to give him a proper set of rooms and... and...please, Fawkes, _**please**_?"

Bloody hell, if Mo Skeeter could only see him now – the glorious defeater of Gellert. A wizard who scared an eleven year girl into collapsing, a mage who couldn't convince a thousand year old castle to add a new set of rooms for Alastor, a wizard who had a familiar that just...

 _  
**Albus? I think you are exhausted. You need to sleep so go to your bed and I will sing you to sleep.**   
_

"That might be best," admitted Albus. "Tomorrow is looming on the horizon. Another day in which to terrorize eleven year olds."


	4. The Phoenix and the Bear Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - I started this story to see if I could write a quick story, maybe three chapters in a month's time Ha! It seems that Selmak the Tok'Ra is long-winded. ;(

AN - I started this story to see if I could write a quick story, maybe three chapters in a month's time Ha! It seems that Selmak the Tok'Ra is long-winded. ;(

Synopsis: In this chapter, the real reason behind Alastor's animosity toward Albus is revealed.

* * *

A pensive Alastor returned to Albus' quarters. He had hoped that Albus would be asleep, fondly dreaming of his spectacular victory over Gellert, relishing the accolades of his adoring crowds. Instead, Albus was awake and he was reading a ream of parchment. Fawkes, the Peeping, Perverted Phoenix, was sitting on the arm of the settee. The familiar was making a cooing noise and Albus shook his head. "I'll go to bed after I finish this."

The great mage quickly realized that his ball and chain was back. "Alastor, please tell me. How is Miss Bones? Is she doing better now that her parents are here?"

Alastor was hit with an unexpected flash of understanding. How much of Clarence and Erik's personalities were in Albus? Conscientious Clarence's startling sense of whimsy tempered by the introspective Erik's isolation. Yes, Albus Dumbledore might _**pretend**_ to be a social butterfly, but he kept most people at an arm's length.

 _Is that why I can't stand the bugger? Because he reminds me too much of my dead?_

 _No, not just that. It's because this bastard, this professor, this bloody academic was able to defeat Gellert. Not because he did it, I'm so bloody angry that he took so bloody long to DO IT. If he had gotten off his purple clad arse last year... three years ago...Edgar would still have a face and possess both arms. Clarence and his wife would be having children and Erik... Erik would still be alive and hopefully involved with someone who could love him like he deserved. But, no...I'm furious that it took too long._

It was once again time to submerge the bitterness he felt toward Albus. He was an Auror, which meant he knew how to play the political game.

"Yes, Amelia is doing better but they still haven't decided if she's to go home for her recovery. Edgar wished to come up here and apologize for his bad behavior. Unfortunately, there were too many steps for him to manage, so he'll have to apologize in person another day. He requested that I give you his sincerest apologies."

"No need," protested Albus.

"He disagrees, so he will apologize. It is rather unseemly for a Senior Auror to desire to thrash his daughter's professor."

 _And if Reggie hadn't been there, I would have helped him. Hell, I would have punched you a few times, for Amelia, for Clarence and for Erik._

"You can't blame him for wishing to defend an ill family member," Albus protested. For some reason, his comment seemed to be pregnant with meaning as a seemingly stricken Albus then paused. It took a moment for him to collect his thoughts and then he continued with more confidence.

"I've spoken at length with Herbert and Filius. They've made some suggestions on how I can be more approachable to my students. I didn't realize…" Albus stopped as though realizing he sounded like he wished for Alastor's approval, and then he smiled. It was an uncertain grimace. "I didn't mean… That poor, frightened girl."

His shoulders slumped and then an uncomfortable Alastor roughly remarked how late it was. "Time to go to bed."

* * *

Alastor couldn't sleep that night. His dead were haunting him and while Clarence was as light-hearted a specter as he had been in life, it was Erik's ghost that he couldn't face.

 _It was an event unheard of in recent years; every single active Auror was in the same room. Alastor didn't have to look to realize how the Aurors were bunched up in groups. You had the Purebloods in one, the mixed in another, and then there were the odd people… well… in this case, men, out._

 _He was the odd man out, especially since he had been Reggie's last trainee before Reggie had taken over the Auror department. Well, who was he fooling; he was the odd man out as he was Muggle born._

 _Who were the other solitary souls?_

 _There was… Clarence. His blood was so damn pure even the Purebloods couldn't match it, as he could trace his maternal bloodline back to before the first stone had been laid at Hogwarts. To before Christ was born. A bloody Pict in this modern age was a surprise. One that tattooed his body blue was even rarer. To have an Auror who was a bloody Priest who had been conceived in the fires of Beltaine between the Goddess and the God, well, that was absolutely unheard of. He burned with magic, as he had been Hedging since he could walk.  
_

 _Let the Pures look down at him, the barbarian mage, Alastor knew jealously when he saw it. They would belittle his accomplishments, claiming that what he excelled in was merely Hedge Magic. Clarence was among the top five of the most powerful mages in the Auror corp. As he was still young, he hadn't come into his full strength. When he did, he'd shake the very stars in the firmament._

 _Erik was also the odd man out. He was younger than most in the Auror corps, probably had been wearing his Auror badge for little more than a year. German to boot, he and his Mum had escaped from Gellert's reign early on, losing everything in the process. Highly educated, he spoke at least half a dozen different languages, and he was bloody brilliant. Not a great deal of social skills, Alastor had noted, but then again, he wasn't one to talk. Most people just gave Erik a wide berth. Maybe it was due to the fact that English wasn't his milk tongue, that he used odd phrasings, a stilted formality. Plus most of the blokes, be they Pures or Mixed, didn't wish to shower with him as they had declared him a poof. Claimed the boy watched them in the showers, but there was a shifting in Erik's eyes, as though he was constantly vigilant. Waiting for the next attack. He showered when Erik was in the showers because if the boy got off on watching him, then so be it. The introverted Erik had never made a pass at him, so if he enjoyed looking, let him take a gander._

 _Kept to himself, the boy did. The most they had ever spoken had been in the shower. Come to think of it, Clarence had been there, busy lathering up, and Erik had been startled by the sheer magnitude of Clarence's tattoos. "Those must have hurt," was all Erik had said. So Alastor had to take a gander, and if that meant the Pures would start declaring him a Poof, so be it. And Erik was right; some of those must have really hurt as they had been done the old way. With the woad and needle._

 _Reggie had asked for volunteers - looking for at least one quad of Aurors to help out on the Eastern front as the magical defenses were in tatters. It was only a matter of time before the defenses fell completely, but a single quad of mages would be able to help boost their defense. The more quads that volunteered the better it would be for the exhausted Eastern Europeans. Alastor, Clarence and Erik had taken the one big step forward to volunteer while the rest of the Aurors had taken one step back._

 _Cowards, that's what they were. Too focused on their own needs to worry about what would happen when Russia fell. Yes, when Gellert stopped fighting a war on multiple fronts and just went for Western Europe – because England would be next._

 _The three volunteers went off to a small room. They were silent for a bit, glancing at each, estimating the others' valor and steadfastness. Alastor was the old man at slightly less than thirty, Clarence was two years younger and Erik was, at most, twenty three. But an_   
_  
**old**   
_   
_twenty three, believed Alastor._

 _The black haired Clarence was the first to speak. "Clarence."_

" _Alastor," he had responded._

" _Erik," the youngest of them had answered._

" _Got any family? It's just my wife and me." Clarence grinned when he admitted that._

" _None," Alastor firmly stated._

" _Just my mutter," Erik admitted. "The rest... they didn't get out."_

 _Which meant that they were dead, if they were lucky, because Gellert didn't like deserters. Rumors had deserters were hung by their entrails from the trees._

" _Well, I think we're brothers now," Clarence announced. "A band of brothers, we are, a rather stupid bunch for volunteering but still…_ _ **brothers**_ _."_

 _They clasped each other's forearms and Alastor relaxed. After being a loner for most of his life, well, having a pair of brothers was a good thing._

" _If you lads are declaring brotherhood, that better not make me your old man. I got three hooligans of my own at home, plus a girl. Don't want any more boys. Anyway, I'm Edgar Bones. I believe I'm your squad leader for this mad misadventure."_

 _That was his introduction to Edgar Bones. The Pure Blood was a fair bit older than they were, carrying enough years to almost be Alastor's da but he was fit enough to make a young man jealous. Considering Edgar's easy personality, plus the fact that Alastor, Erik and Clarence were all fatherless, Edgar fell into the role of aul fella easily_. _And he took his role of Old Fellow too seriously, as he got hurt defending one of his boys. Didn't matter which one it was, could have been Alastor, could have been Clarence or Erik, but the end result was the same, two dozen bloody Dark Wizards dead, a heady total. Their victory was negated by a washed-out Edgar bleeding out while Clarence tried to stop the flow._

 _Stupidly, recklessly, they Port Keyed Edgar to the main Auror office, guesstimating that someone would be in the office. Even if it was the bloody cleaning crew, they'd get him help as St, Mungo's was locked up tighter than a drum. Their Pyrrhic victory left Alastor in charge of the two younger men._

 _That was the day that Clarence taught them to walk the fairy paths, because they all knew that Gellert's followers had noticed the sheer savagery of the magic battle, the magical power discharged to get Edgar home. They'd be investigating before long and the three of them needed to get away. Alastor had given them ten minutes to get gone._

 _Bloody hell, the Fairy Paths. Alastor knew enough about them to know that they were bloody dangerous. Yet Clarence was acting like it was a summer holiday._

" _Don't worry, Erik. If the Jili Ffrwtan, show up, we'll give them Alastor to sexually succor them."_

 _The Welsh Fairies were rumored to be a rather amorous bunch which was Clarence's way of taking the piss at Alastor's legendary extracurricular activities among the Auror Corp._   
_  
**Please**   
_   
_, only the Mixed females had deigned to dally with Alastor, and only a few of them at that. Clarence carried on like Alastor had bedded every damn lass, bloke and House Elf in the Auror compound._

 _Erik didn't laugh even after Alastor roundly cursed Clarence. No, the lad was all inwardly focused and Clarence motioned for Alastor that they needed a private chinwag._

" _Erik, please find some sugar. We need to give the fairies a gift for walking on their roads," Clarence explained. "They have a fondness for sugar and we'll need to give leave them spring water. Reducio everything that has iron in it. If you're not sure, do it anyway, then put them in this bag. It's Charmed to hide the iron from the Fairies' perception."_

 _While Erik was searching for the sugar, iron and water, Clarence and Alastor chatted. It wasn't a leisurely chinwag but a war council._

" _Erik was quite taken with the Old Man," Clarence reminded Alastor. For once, the capricious Clarence was serious. "This is hitting him hard."_

" _I think we all were a bit taken with Edgar," was Alastor's response. Yes, a quick approving comment from Edgar made Alastor stand a little straighter while a dismissive gesture from Edgar would have Alastor struggling to correct his error. And he had watched Clarence do the same. "And you can't say Edgar's injury isn't bothering you."_

" _It's just…Erik_ _ **fancied**_ _the Old Man. And I don't think Erik's ever…" Clarence gave Alastor an obscene gesture. "You know how he got when we hunkered down in the cave during that blizzard. It was too blasted cold to worry about it, but he_ _ **did**_ _, and he wanted to sleep alone. Edgar had to order him into the middle of our cozy nest. He's so slight he would have frozen to death. I hate to throw more weight on your shoulders, Boss, but we have to keep a close eye on Erik."_

" _Boss?" Alastor repeated._

" _You're the Old Man now. Though when we're walking the Fairy Paths, I'll need to be in charge. You have to do everything I say, immediately. I'll also need to paint you blue. Hopefully it will be sufficient, but if you think we're walking the Paths again, I'll want to tattoo the both of you. And if the Jili Ffrwtan show up, you'll have to entertain them, because they like fair-haired men. As a ginger nut, you're the closest we have to a blond. Especially since the sun's bleached your hair."_

 _Again the Pict was talking about the Welsh fairies. The Picts were from the far north of Scotland, why did he keep insisting on bringing up Welsh fairies? Couldn't the Scottish fey be enough for Clarence?  
_

" _Clarence, answer me this, you're a bloody Pict, aren't the Jili Ffrwtan Taffs?"_

 _The good-natured Clarence's jaw dropped to his toes. It seemed that Alastor was a sacrilegious bastard._

" _For love of whatever deity you pray to, Alastor Moody, if one of the Fairy Folks show up, do not tell them that they don't exist because you're a bloody Paddy!"  
_

 _The three of them were together for eighteen months when Clarence died. He died a hero, protecting an army of Muggle soldiers from a dragon. A DRAGON. It seemed that Gellert's chief warlock had a juvenile streak as he decided to hit the Muggles with a bloody dragon. To escape, Alastor had to jump onto the Fairy Paths, a nerve wracking experience, as he didn't know the rules. He did, but they weren't burned into his Muggle soul. Unlike Clarence…Crossroads in the FairyLands required an offering - a respectful gift to acknowledge their power but not too generous as the fairies were greedy. They'd want more._

 _They trudged along the straight path in the silent world. He had never seen a Fairy in all his time on the Paths, but he could feel their many eyes, watching him. And sometimes their gifts to the Fairies had been rewarded. Boot soles worn past thin were re-soled, a threadbare, tattered cloak mended._

 _And sometimes, the Fairies pranked. Nothing harmful, just tricks to let the team know that they had been visited. Edgar had woken one morning to find his wardrobe was now a colour that could only be described as cornflower. Another time, the fairies had rearranged all their supplies so what had been in Erik's bag were now sprinkled among Alastor, Clarence and Erik._

 _Both he and Erik were beyond knackered and grieving to boot. There was no sign of an exit so they continued to walk until they came to a crossroad. Right, straight or left? He had no idea, and Erik staggered into him, not realizing that Alastor had ceased walking._

" _No soddin' idea," Alastor answered Erik's unspoken question._

" _We could rest for a bit," Erik suggested._

 _As Alastor pondered that lovely suggestion, he felt more and more uneasy._

" _I don't know the rules here, but I'm getting this feeling that resting at a crossroad overnight might be a bad idea," Alastor admitted. Well, he might be the Old Man now, but Edgar had been easy enough in his command to accept advice from his team._

" _You too?" the younger Auror asked. "I'm getting this feeling… "_

" _We need to be as far away from this crossroad as possible when night falls. Clarence, I thank you for the warning, but could you give me an idea on which way to go?"_

" _ **Right**_ _," the tattered remains of a once proud Band of Brothers both said at the same time. "And we better run."_

 _They ran like the very hounds of hell were after them and when they were stumbling due the increasing darkness, they both stopped._

" _Get off the road," they intoned. They found a small cave, dry and occupant free and they crawled in._

 _Guided by an instinct that Alastor couldn't comprehend, he took all of their heavily rationed sugar and put it out for the fairies, and for added bonus, he left out spring water that he could ill afford to spare._

" _Budge over," he ordered Erik. "And sleep on your left side tonight."_

 _Ignoring Erik's sleepy protests, Alastor put his back to Erik's front. Best to sleep watching the entranceway. Erik might be afraid that he'd accidentally poke Alastor with his wand when he greeted the morning, but Alastor didn't care. Then he moved in closer to Erik and made sure that they were both completely covered by blankets._

" _Alastor," Erik protested. Then in a softer tone. "Please."_

" _Don't_ _ **worry**_ _. If it happens, it happens. I hope you'll give a Piss-proud Paddy the same courtesy as I should warn you that you're starting to look tasty, Erik."_

 _A sharp intake of breath. Bloody hell, he had offended Erik, hadn't he? The fact that Erik was a homosexual was a long accepted fact, much like Alastor's ginger hair, Clarence's lack of cooking skills and Edgar's complete inability to hold a tune even with a bucket. Yet the three older men had never teased Erik, had never mentioned that they knew his sexual preference and they had certainly never remarked on his sexual innocence. Yet Alastor had shattered those rules in his attempts to keep the boy from doing something rash._

" _Erik," Alastor hesitantly whispered._

" _Even though I am a virgin, I_ _ **do**_ _have my standards. And well, Alastor, with that beard of yours, it would be akin to bedding a very hairy, ginger bear."_

 _Alastor couldn't give voice to his booming laugh but Erik realized that he was laughing._

* * *

 _It was the sound of wings that woke them. One never knew how loud a flock of hummingbirds were until you were trapped with them in a small cave. Plus the little winged fairies were brawling over the sugar, glutting on it until their tummies bulged. Yes, the old rules declared honey was a suitable offering, plus jam and oatcakes, but with the war on, well, they had offered what rations they could._

 _He tapped Erik on his hand and the other Auror silently woke. They watched the sugar spectacle in amused silence until they heard the baying of hounds and the nickers of horses. But what unnerved them the most was the wailing. Of the hunters or the hunted, Alastor couldn't have guessed. At the eerie sound, the fairies stopped their sugar frenzy and retreated to the back of the cave, right where Alastor and Erik were._

" _It's the Wild Hunt," Erik whispered to Alastor. "We can't let them see us."_

 _No, it was death for mortals to view The Hunt._

" _Steady hand on your wand," was Alastor's response._

 _The fairies continued to pour into the cave, until Alastor covered his mouth with his left hand. No doubt it would not be appreciated if he accidentally inhaled one of the flutterbys. Lots of fairies, of various sizes and shapes, colors and personalities. And they were all very quiet._

 _And scared. They were scared of Woden's Wild Hunt._

 _The pounding of hooves came closer and then, there it was, at the front of the cave, it was a Hell Hound. It was blacker than midnight, uglier than Alastor on a rough morning and his eyes were blood red. He sniffed the air in the cave and the fairies bristled. There was the sound of footsteps, heavy footsteps and then something was in the cave. It was tall, dark and it put fear into Alastor's heart._

 _The fairies charged the intruder much like a flight of bumblebees and Woden decided a strategic retreat was in order. In a little bit, the fairies came back into the cave, much abuzz about their fierceness. In particular a dark haired fairy, that radiated power, was looking quite chuffed._

" _Thank you," Alastor whispered to the fairy that could only be Queen Mab. "I'm afraid that I can't give you more sugar as we gave you all that we had. We've got a bit of cheese in the tan rucksack. Take it all, please. We appreciate your protection."_

 _Erik agreed and then in a surprising gesture, he offered a gold ring that he wore. It had been his father's and it was his only physical connection with his father._

" _It's the only item of value that I possess, m'lady."_

 _The sovereign nodded her head in acknowledgement of their offerings and then raised one hand in benediction._

 _Then the boys woke up the next morning to an almost empty cave. There was a fairy buzzing around their heads and she tugged at Alastor's sleeve. His new sleeve as he wasn't wearing what he had been wearing last night. It seemed that the fairies had decided to gift instead of trick._

" _Ok, ok! I'm getting up!"_

 _The little taskmaster buzzed them into trotting whenever their pace began to falter, but most of the time she sat on Alastor's shoulder, clutching his ear lobe in her hands, guiding him like a horse. Within a few hours, they were at an exit._

 _The fairy buzzed around them a few times and then disappeared._

" _Thank you!" Erik called and Alastor quickly echoed his appreciation._

" _So that is what is known as being Pixie Led," Alastor quipped after he exited and returned back to the Real World. "Certainly cut off a great deal of travel time."_

" _Clarence would have been besides himself." Erik then struggled to smile, then he looked at Alastor. "Alastor...where are you?"_

" _I'm here," Alastor retorted. "Standing right in front of you."_

" _Well, I don't see you! I can hear you, and since I'm downwind, I can smell you, but I don't see you."_

 _Alastor turned and looked at Erik. Well, he tried, but the lad wasn't there._

" _The fairies gave us both new cloaks. Let's take them off," Alastor then carefully shrugged out of his cloak and Erik popped into sight. Well, parts of him as he undid his cloak._

" _ **Invisibility**_ _ **cloaks**_ _?" They both exclaimed. "Queen Mab gave us_ _ **INVISIBILITY CLOAKS?"**_

" _Our rucksacks are heavier than we entered. I'd like to go through them, however we better find shelter quickly," was Alastor's quick decision. "Smells like snow. A great deal of snow."_

 _Erik agreed and wondered how long they had been on the Paths. Sometimes an hour would pass, once two weeks._

" _We'll find out when we report in."_

* * *

 _They found a desolate farmhouse, long empty from what they could tell, and decided to commandeer the barn for shelter. As was their rule, they took the hayloft and pulled up the ladder behind them. If other travelers found the barn, well, the fact there wasn't an easy way to loft would keep them out of it._

 _They made their camp, marveling at the riches that spilled out of their rucksacks. New, surprisingly lightweight though warm continental quilts had appeared, replacing their threadbare blankets. New trousers, new coats and heavy jumpers. New mitts, hats and mufflers. A light that glowed sans fire. Two heavy purses full of Muggle coin plus the Invisibility cloaks. If it wasn't sacrilegious to compare, their fairies' generosity made Alastor pine for barely remembered Christmases with his Mum and Da._

 _And Queen Mab had let Erik keep his father's ring. However, she had taken all their cheese plus their loose tea._

 _The accounting done, Alastor unrolled his realm of parchments and he whistled when he realized how long Erik and he had been in the fairy realm._

" _We were there for twenty-five days, Erik. Clarence made it home...Edgar and Reggie attended his service." Alastor's voice broke and then he continued. "Reggie and Edgar have been checking on us every few hours."_

 _In his neat script, Alastor wrote on the parchment. "Met Queen Mab. Won't believe it if I told you the truth."_

 _His writing faded to be replaced by a barely legible "Try me" from Edgar. Then in Reggie's strong handwriting. "Better be hunkered down, predicting a blizzard to hit your area."_

 _After he finished his report, Alastor grabbed his bedding and dropped it on Erik who was curled up like a cat under his blankets._

" _Budge over," he ordered. "How many times do I have to tell you?"_

 _With a complete lack of decorum, he plopped down next to Erik and curled up next to him. He made a big palaver about being required to readjust the various blankets._

" _Alastor," Erik began. "Please let me finish before you assure me it doesn't bother you. With it being the two of us...I'm very uncomfortable sharing blankets because it's_ _ **just**_ _the two of us."_

" _Well, you do have a point," Alastor admitted. Erik continued to talk but he was muffled by Alastor who had rather hesitantly kissed him._

 _It was different kissing a man, but not really. Trajectory was important but what was key to the entire snogging bit was that the man he was kissing was_   
_  
**Erik**   
_   
_. And if bedding Erik would keep him from nobly freezing to dead, then so be it._

 _Erik didn't respond and then Alastor stopped kissing him. Instead, Alastor focused on unbuttoning Erik's shirt. It had been far too long since Alastor had physically communed with his fellow female Aurors, but he knew what he liked, so perhaps Erik would have some enjoyment. It was highly doubtable that they'd live to the end of the war, and Erik shouldn't die unloved. He and Clarence had decided if it came to it, they'd do the honors._

" _Be my parabátai and I will be your heníochoi. For it is only the two of us now." Well, mentioning the slaughtered Sacred Band of Thebes wasn't very romantic, but it was better than a blunt 'I'm shagging you, Erik, because we're not getting out of this alive and do you really want to die a virgin?'_

 _He kissed Erik again, and this time, Erik responded. Hesitantly._

 _"I don't know what to do, Allie," protested Erik._

 _"Shh... you just let me do everything," whispered Alastor.  
_

* * *

Alastor woke then, grateful that he hadn't gotten to worst part of his dreams. He hated those nightmares, where he relived when a sensitive Erik cracked from the carnage and Alastor was forced to put Erik down like a mad dog. His gratitude lasted for all of a minute because there was a large piece of parchment floating overhead.

 _  
**You. Albus. Duel – 9:00 am in the Great Hall – REGGIE.**   
_

_  
**PS – Yes, I'm a bastard.**   
_

Alastor and Albus arrived in the Great Hall promptly. There were no students assembled, which was a good thing. No, instead there was a chipper looking Reggie, Professors Merrythought and Flitwick and Edgar Bones.

"Professor Flitwick, if you don't mind, as our resident dueling expert, you can oversee this." Reggie announced. Then in a softer voice, just for Albus and Alastor. "I really have far too many matters to deal with, and providing you two with marriage counseling is becoming tedious and quite time consuming. I anticipate you two will beat it out of your system."

Then he smiled broadly. Like the consummate politician he was.

"Very well, present your wands for inspection," requested the diminutive Charms Grand Master.

"We're doing this wandless," Albus inserted. "We are both accustoming ourselves to new wands, and feel that it would be safer if we didn't use them."

That earned a raised eyebrow from the Filius but nothing more. "I'm assuming that you don't need seconds, so take your places."

* * *

Edgar Bones was not particularly chuffed with Reggie's solution to the increasing animosity between the two mages. It was the tried and true Auror method of handling disputes but this was different. It wasn't two youngsters in a pissing match, but two battle-weary mages of significant skills and incredible power. It was all too likely someone or both of them would misjudge a spell and someone would get hurt.

The two men started off slowly, not putting any real effort into the duel. A throw, a parry, another spell tossed met another block. The first round ended as a draw.

"Neither of them is putting any effort into this," Reggie groaned. Then in a loud voice, he informed both men that they'd be dueling for the next three years if they didn't put more back into it.

"On your head then, Reggie," Alastor announced, before he threw a wicked hex at Albus. The mage seemed startled at the sheer ferocity of Alastor's attack and then decided to defend in earnest.

The two men exchanged spells and counterspells for a bit and when the second round ended, they still continued their battle.

"Reggie," Edgar protested. "I have a very bad feeling about this."

Albus threw four spells in rapid succession, and Alastor, not being familiar with the size of the dueling arena, stepped back one foot onto thin air. Moody started to fall off the arena but then he twisted out a backflip which was surprisingly elegant for his bulk, even while he threw a curse at Albus. Then his footing regained, Alastor did not do so much as attack but instead, a screaming Alastor _**charged**_.

And Albus refused to back down even while Reggie ordered both men to stand down.

* * *

Albus had regretfully gone along with Reggie's barbaric method to clear the air between him and Alastor. Really, dueling was such a testosterone filled way of handling disagreements. Plus, maybe if he bounced the accomplished Auror on his arse once or twice, Reggie would finally accept the simple fact that Albus Dumbledore did not need a minder.

That was his goal, except for the fact that Albus had completely underestimated the bad-tempered Alastor's skill as a duelist. The grim Auror was quite possibly the most accomplished duelist Albus had ever faced, secondary only to Gellert.

And there was less than a whisker difference between the two of them.

Albus certainly didn't want to remember how he could have easily lost to Gellert though a simple misstep.

One of Alastor's castings had left him reeling, so he had instinctively defended himself. He hadn't realized that Alastor was so close to the edge when he throw out his defense, so he hadn't anticipated that Alastor would fall off the platform. Well, the Auror didn't fall, as he managed to land on his feet. However, Moody was beyond furious and he charged across the platform and _**towards**_ Albus. Before Albus could defend himself, Alastor had tackled him and the two fell off Albus's side of the platform.

" _ **COWARD**_. That's what you are a _**bloody**_ coward! Attack me when I'm off-balance? Your adoring fans would be crushed to know that the gallant defeater of Gellert is a sneak and a coward. But I know what you are, you're a spineless coward. Good men _**died**_ while you sat on your purple clad arse. Thousands of wizards and witches were _**slaughtered**_ because you couldn't be bothered to duel Gellert. I was out fighting the legions of hell for the last three years and your biggest concern was a paper cut!"

A screaming, raving Alastor had grabbed Albus' shirt with his left hand. His right hand was clenched in a fist and Albus accepted that his nose would be pointing in yet another direction in the morning. He should defend himself, but Albus Dumbledore accepted the truth of what Alastor was saying.

Really, Alastor was surprisingly astute in his evaluation of why Albus hadn't fought Gellert. Because Albus had been afraid of facing the boy he had once loved so recklessly and foolishly.

" _ **AUROR! STAND DOWN,"**_ roared Edgar.

"I have to mind your sorry arse so you don't get killed. You won't do anything I say because you hate the crimp I'm putting in your social life. Quite frankly, I don't think it would be that big of a loss if one of Gellert's followers decided to murder you," raged Alastor. "And to think Clarence and Erik are _**dead**_ because of you. You aren't worthy to lick their boots clean..."

"Auror Moody, you will release Albus now," Reggie's voice, while quiet, was authoritative.

The raging Auror released Albus Dumbledore and then turned to Reggie.

"I _**quit**_ ," Alastor Moody informed Reggie. His voice was tightly restrained but his body was vibrating in his rage. "Go find someone else to burp Albus and change his nappies. I need a few of my personal items from his room and then I'll be gone. And I say 'Good Riddance to badly clad Rubbish'. Miss Tibby?"

The House Elf popped into the Great Hall, as always, overanxious in her obsessive desire to please.

"Mr. Auror Moody called?" The House Elf questioned. "Mr. Auror Moody needing Tibby?"

"Would you mind getting me a few things for me from Professor Dumbledore's quarters? There are two small bags in my drawer and there's a photograph on the bureau. I need them, and then you take everything else of mine that remains and bin them. I won't need any of it where I'm going. I'll meet you at the main entrance. And Reggie, you can keep the bloody Order of Merlin."

The House Elf nervously looked at Albus for confirmation of Mr. Auror Moody's strange instructions and when he said nothing, she popped away.

"Where are you going?" Edgar asked. "Come stay with Pru and me. You're exhausted, Alastor."

Alastor Moody shook his head. He roughly clasped Edgar's forearm and explained, "You've got to take care of Amelia, so you need to focus on her. I'll be in touch, though don't tell Reggie where the hell I am. I'm no longer an Auror, so he has no hold over me."

* * *

Albus watched Alastor Moody storm away and he had to admit that he was rather sorry to see the Auror leave. Well, ex-Auror, as Alastor had resigned thanks to Reggie's meddling.

"Are you happy, Reggie?" Albus questioned.

"Yes and no," admitted Reggie. Then he growled. "Do not give me that sanctimonious smirk. When you're Minister of Magic, we'll have a chat about how you're required to do things you don't wish to do."

"I don't wish to be Minister of Magic," protested Albus. "I just wish to teach. I have no desire for that position."

"Yes, I said _**that**_ , right before they elected me," Reggie retorted. "What just happened; needed to be done to you _**both**_. You've been treating him like a House Elf, Albus, because you were unhappy about him guarding you. Constantly, you disregard his suggestions on how to keep you safe, yet you've just had the unhappy realization that he's your match when it comes to dueling. And what happened to him out in the field? The wounds have been festering, and for his good, they needed to be lanced so they can drain. And most importantly, I needed to see how far you two would go."

"What do you mean?" Albus questioned.

"Because I wasn't confident you two would stop before someone got hurt or killed. And after what happened to Amelia Bones, I needed to reassure myself that you're safe with our children. Edgar, I have one more request for you, I need you to keep an eye on Albus. He's to return to his quarters immediately until I can get someone new to guard him. Professors Flitwick and Merrythought, would mind assisting Edgar?"

Edgar Bones didn't immediately agree, Albus noticed. No, the former Auror looked displeased.

"I promise you, I will have your replacement here within the hour. Don't worry, I know Amelia's being discharged to go home with you and Pru. You'll be relieved of your tour of duty long before the matron has her ready," promised Reggie.

"Reginald, I must regretfully decline. I am in no physical condition to guard Albus Dumbledore," protested Edgar. "In case it has slipped your mind, I have been medically discharged from the Auror corps. I am blind in one eye and I am missing my wand arm."

"Damn it, Edgar. You may be missing an arm, but I need your _**brain**_ now. You _**know**_ Gellert's followers, how they think, how they react. That's why you _**have**_ to guard Albus. You and Alastor, you are the tactical experts on Gellert's followers. They are coming for Albus. Not if, but **_when_**."

"Bugger me, I can't believe I voted for you for Minister," protested Edgar.

Reggie Baxter barked a rough laugh. "Don't worry, you and Alastor can start the Recall procedure. I'd like to give up this job and return back to the Auror Corps. If they'd have me back, that is."


	5. The Phoenix and the Bear Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Within a short time, the somber Edgar Bones was substituted by a seasoned Auror. And then Edgar's replacement was quickly dismissed after Rhys made a disparaging comment about Alastor's temperament and the fact that he was Muggleborn. Fortunately, Reggie was still in the Albus' quarters when Rhys opened his mouth and proceeded to hex off his nethers in a stunning display of self-inflicted spell damage caused by Pureblood bigotry.

Within a short time, the somber Edgar Bones was substituted by a seasoned Auror. And then Edgar's replacement was quickly dismissed after Rhys made a disparaging comment about Alastor's temperament and the fact that he was Muggleborn. Fortunately, Reggie was still in the Albus' quarters when Rhys opened his mouth and proceeded to hex off his nethers in a stunning display of self-inflicted spell damage caused by Pureblood bigotry.

"I'm not surprised you got rid of Alastor. He never knew his rank, which is only to be expected by the Muggleborn. After all, what do you expect from a pig but a grunt?"

Really, Albus and Alastor may not have seen eye to eye on anything, but still Albus firmly believed that Alastor was twice the man Rhys was. Rhys hadn't been on the Eastern front for three years? No, he had been busy patrolling Diagon Alley protecting clerks from angry shoppers.

"Get out," thundered Albus. "Get him out of here, Reggie, or I _**will**_ remove him. I will _**not**_ have anyone badmouth Alastor."

"I'm truly sorry, Albus. I was assured by Rabi that Rhys understood he was _**not**_ allowed to open his mouth," Reggie assured Albus.

Rhys was replaced by the vivacious and cheery Linette, who lasted until the next morning, when Albus found her in his bed. With him in it. The buxom Auror was absolutely starkers, naked as the day she had been born. And his body had _**responded**_ because it been a very long time since he shared his bed with a warm-blooded body who wasn't a Phoenix who hogged the covers. And also because Linette was giving him the best hand job he had ever been fortunate enough to receive.

He should have realized that she was one of _**those**_ , someone who was interested in bedding his carcass because he was the Glorious Defeater of Dark Wizards. She had seemed just a little too interested in him, a little too vivacious, but Albus had enjoyed being with an anti-Alastor. Someone who didn't immediately bin his suggestions and glowered at him, but a friendly face who listened.

It would probably be quite embarrassing for Albus to admit that he panicked and Portkeyed her to Reggie's office. Linette was quite naked, but a considerate Fawkes insisted that it would be proper for Albus to return her clothes. So off the Phoenix popped, insisting on carrying Linette's brassiere with his beak like it was a war trophy. Well, it wasn't as though Albus was going to pack it up and Owl it!

The next Auror showed up promptly as though Reggie had been anticipating Linette's early eviction. The young man came complete with a gracious thank you note from Reggie. In the typical sardonic Reggie style, the note thanked Albus for the gift of one naked Auror as it had certainly livened up his early morning session of paperwork, but tartly reminded him that Linette really wasn't his type. George was a pimply faced, gangling adolescent, who was in too much awe of Albus to even open his mouth. Which was nice at first as Albus found it absolutely _**refreshing**_ that he didn't have to deal with glowering disapproval on a constant basis. George lasted all of two days before Reggie was requested to replace him with an Auror who wouldn't walk into doors because he was staring at his feet.

Martin Crabbe lasted for two hours because Fawkes didn't like him. That was an understatement, as Fawkes didn't wish to be in the same room with Crabbe, however the Phoenix refused to abandon his mage.

 _Please, make him go away! Please? He smells dark._

Caspar Crouch's single-mindedness was wearisome. There were constant questions about Gellert, the battle and why Albus should be the Minister of Magic. The handsome blond Caspar was far too dangerous for Albus, as Caspar seemed so reasonable on why Albus should be in charge of the Magical World. While he was male, he was as dangerous as a Siren's Call to Albus' Achilles' Heel. He was sent away and replaced by Millicent, who Reggie assured him wouldn't try to seduce him either physically or with an appeal to his ego.

Millie was morose and sullen, unlike Alastor who had been so very vocal in his disapproval. No, the glowering Millicent was so passive-aggressive that Albus was requesting a replacement fifteen minutes after she arrived. He had explained to her that her room was on the small side because Hogwarts had refused to enlarge it further even after repeated pleas. Her response had been a long-suffering plaint about the difficulties of an Auror's life and how the world renown Albus couldn't hope to understand how this was the latest in the whole line of adverse conditions.

And there were seemingly dozens of others, Aurors who showed up and were quickly sent away. Most of which seemed like decent enough sorts, but they _**weren't**_ the strong-willed, irascible Alastor. They certainly _**weren't**_ the types that would go out on the Eastern Font by themselves, and they were certainly unable to go of their way to help out a scared eleven year old.

But the absolute last straw was Pratik, whose first question was should he even bother to unpack as Albus was developing a reputation for being a bit of a prat.

To Albus' secret amusement, Reggie was looking a little worse for wear. He was graying, significantly, and he was no longer looking quite as posh as he once had. Reggie had always prided himself on being a snappy dresser, but he was looking _**wrinkled**_. Apparently, power had a personal price.

"Reggie, you win," Albus confessed. "You've gotten your petty revenge. I've admitted that it is my fault that Alastor quit, so you don't need to keep jabbing me."

That earned a long suffering sigh from Reggie that caused Albus to double check to confirm that Millicent hadn't returned. "I only wish I was jabbing you. I replaced Rabi as Head of the Auror department because he kept insisting that he was sending me the best the Department had to offer. I pulled Edgar Bones out of retirement and he's rebuilding the department. I need him, especially to deal with the sheer daftness of the Ministry wishing to reinstate the TriWizard Competition as a gesture of good will between the three schools! Don't they remember what happened in 1792?"

"So that's why we're having a TriSchool Quidditch Championship?" Albus questioned.

"I really don't wish to handle a Cockatrice, do you? Not after that entire opening of the Chamber of Secrets incident at Hogwarts a few years ago. Speaking of handling Cockatrices, in spite of your best attempts to go scorch and burn through the entire Auror department, I've found two more victims to be your guards."

" _ **Two**_?" Where the hell could Albus put them? Maybe he could stack them on top of each other in Alastor's old room.

"Bale and Bane. That's not their real names but since you're going through them so fast why should you bother learning their names? Bale's the dark haired one and Bane is the blond. Or is Bane the dark haired one? Or is he ginger? Bane will be your main guard, while Bale will be assisting. He's got other duties besides minding you."

Albus sighed. "Any news on Alastor?"

"Albus, you sound like you _**miss**_ him," Reggie chastised. "I don't really have any updates on him."

"Least I knew exactly where I stood with him. He disliked me intensely and he thought I was an idiot. He didn't hold back his opinions one bit."

"And you didn't have to be on your best behavior with him because you didn't have to pretend to be anybody but yourself. You know, I had really had hoped that you two would hit it off, instead of thumping each other. He's always been the odd man out."

* * *

A wan Amelia Bones was put to bed immediately after she arrived home from Hogwarts, but not before getting a good night kiss from her both her parents. Then her concerned father stayed with his daughter while Pru left the room as Pru believed that Amelia needed some time alone with her Dad. Amelia's was Pappa's little girl and they were quite close.

"Don't let Allie sleep on your pillow if he prevents you from sleeping," Edgar ordered. The Kneazle looked horribly affronted that Edgar thought him capable of disturbing his mistress' sleep.

Amelia nodded her head and Edgar gave her another hug. Times like this where when he missed his right arm the most, though thankfully Amelia was still a slight girl, so he could still wrap his arm around her.

"I'm sorry, Papa." A waning Amelia began to sniffle.

"Never you mind," Edgar insisted as he hugged her still tighter. "You're home where you need to be. You just rest and you'll be feeling fine in no time."

Another kiss and then he tucked her into bed. He sat next to her bed until his daughter was deeply sleep. His watch finished, he turned the responsibility of watching over his daughter to Allie Cat, who was loudly purring. Edgar came out to the kitchen where Pru was waiting for him. She knew him far too well, as she had his traveling cloak ready for him. Plus a rucksack with a few bottles in it. She assisted him by swinging the bag over his good shoulder and then she put on his cloak. Her warrior armed for battle, Pru kissed Edgar once on the cheek.

"Your sons are at school, safe and sound, your daughter is home, Erik's mum and Clarence's wife will be arriving tomorrow, and everything is ready for them . Go find your lost boy. I'll make up one of the boy's room for him. Don't dare to thank me, Edgar Bones," chastised Pru even while Edgar was about to open his mouth. "Clarence, Erik and Alastor are _**your**_ family, which makes them _ **my**_ family. And there's no way I'd refuse to take Sabine and Brynne in. Times are tough enough and being a woman on your own…"

"What did I ever do _**right**_ to deserve you?" was all Edgar said.

"If you must know, it was your arse. It rather nicely fills out your trousers," his wife told him. "I saw it and thought how simply splendid it looked. Then you turned 'round and I realized that I didn't mind that the owner of such a lovely arse was twenty years old than I was, I simply had to buy him a drink."

* * *

Alastor Moody sat on the bench and stared at the memorial for fallen Aurors. It was long past dusk and the wind was brisk, yet Alastor refused to move. Out of sheer stubbornness, out of a perverse need to prove that he was immune to the weather or truth be told, the fact he had no where else to go.

He had no place to lay his hat.

He had quit his job.

He had all of a galleon, three knutes and sickle to his name. He couldn't even get laid with that piddling sum. Unless the lady of the night was sidelining as a sister of mercy.

 _The morning after found Erik rousing slightly when Alastor rose. With a soft command, Alastor ordered Erik back to bed, claiming that he was just up to 'greet the dawn' as they weren't going anywhere, not with the blizzard. The older man kept quiet, intent on making a suitable brekkie. Fortunately for Erik, Alastor had watched when Edgar had cooked by Charms, so he was able to make up a proper post trysting breakfast with what he could salvage from their packs. A good hearty breakfast._

 _When he finally woke, Erik was quite shy with him, but Alastor paid it no mind. No, instead he ruffled Erik's hair and sat quite close to him, their legs touching._

" _You made my favorites," an uneasy Erik remarked. He hesitantly smiled at Alastor, making him seem even younger than he was. Alastor smiled back and Erik relaxed. They ate in companionable silence and after they both had finished their meal, he decided to place his arm around Erik._

" _Alastor?"_

 _Christ, Alastor was fearing this conversation. Naively he had hoped that by displaying no unease regarding last night's events that Erik wouldn't ask about what had happened last night. Or what hadn't happened._

" _About last night…"_

" _Yes, I know it was fantastic for you, but please, I'm a modest man. No need to natter on and on about how brilliant I was." He kept his tone joking but Erik wasn't having any of that shite. "You'll embarrass me."_

" _I wish you would have let me…" Erik slowed and then looked at Alastor._

" _Last night was for_ _ **you**_ _," Alastor reminded Erik. "So I focused on_ _ **you**_ _. I thought I reassured you that I didn't mind. As the heníochoi, I'd supposed to take care of my parabátai. That means for your first time, I take you to a nice hotel with a big, soft bed so we can do some serious mattress bouncing where we focus on your enjoyment."_

' _Really?" Erik asked._

" _It's in the rules," Alastor assured him. "And I did pick the best hotel within kilometers! You can't dispute that!"_

" _You didn't … come…" Erik stumbled and turned a slight shade of pink. "I don't even think you got a stiffie."_

 _Well, he hadn't, but Alastor had hoped that he had hidden it better. Really, he had been so fixated on Erik's enjoyment that it hadn't been that particularly pleasurable for him. In response to Erik's concerns, Alastor leaned toward Erik and kissed him. Really, kissing a man wasn't that different than kissing a woman. And Alastor had many a friendly mattress bouncing in his past._

 _When they finally stopped snogging, Alastor softly assured Erik that he was wrong._

 _With increasing enthusiasm, Alastor regularly bedded his partner even after they finally connected with the Russian Resistance. He didn't hide the fact that they were lovers, as though it was something shameful, and when the snide comments began, Alastor ended them quickly. With a hard right hook that broke the wit's jaw. They were brothers-in-arms and lovers, 'twas no disgrace in that._

 _As the war progressed, Alastor accepted the unspoken fact that Erik had fallen hard for him. Much like Alastor accepted the God's honest truth, that he and Erik were slowly going absolutely barking mad._

 _The carnage, the dead, the constant fighting to stay alive one more day…_

 _Because really, wouldn't it be an appropriate response to this horrible reality to go insane?_

* * *

Alastor was distracted by the sound of rocks being flung. When he turned to face the intruder, there was no one there, yet the rocks kept arriving. It was a puzzle which was quickly solved when Edgar Bones appeared, having Apparated in.

"Thought it best to warn you that I was coming in," Edgar explained. "Budge over. I looked for you at your parents' grave first, realized that you had already come and gone, so that left here."

His squad leader sat next to him. Edgar let him stew for a bit before he dropped the bomb. "Your replacement has already been replaced."

"Who was it?" Alastor asked, not knowing why he cared.

No answer at first, as Edgar was rummaging through his rucksack. He smiled when he found for what he was looking, and he handed Alastor two bottles.

"Get it open for me, would you? Now, your first replacement was Rhys… who has a great deal of brotherly love for you as you well remember. I believed he declared you an upstart Muggleborn who had no respect for tradition? Well whatever happened, his replacement was duly notified that Albus will not accept anyone talking rubbish about you."

Edgar smiled, a true grin as something was truly amusing him. Perhaps someone who didn't know Edgar as well as Alastor did wouldn't think Edgar was grinning like a loon, but Alastor knew that look. Even if Eddie's was missing half his face, there was a distinct twinkle in his lone eye.

Alright, he'd bite. Only after he saluted Edgar with his bottle and took a long swig of cider.

"And who's Rhys' replacement?"

"The lascivious, lewd and lusty Linette. I believe you are quite familiar with her … _**Charms**_?" Again, the sly look that meant Edgar was quite pleased with himself as well he should as Linette was a bit of a tart.

"He doesn't like girls," Alastor reminded Edgar. "I fear Linette will scare him into celibacy."

"I know," Edgar admitted. Then he laughed. "I anticipate that she's probably jumping into his bed now. Lord, how that woman takes the idea of Philia to an all time extreme. Thank God, Pru was out to here with Edgar when Linette joined the corps."

Really, while Edgar might be trying to focus his attention on Lusty Linette, Alastor noticed on what he wasn't saving.

"What deviltry are you and Reggie up to?" Alastor knew damn well that Edgar Bones had been one of Reggie's most trusted if not his most trusted Lieutenants. He doubted that just because Edgar was retired and Reggie promoted that the bond had been broken.

"I'm not up to _**anything**_. Reggie asked Rabi to give him a list of possible replacements for you, but I saw the list. Rabi's been in the field for too long, so he doesn't truly comprehend his Auror corps' personality quirks. That list may detail our best and brightest, but everyone of them will drive Albus around the bend in a hippogriff drawn wagon complete with purple cushions. I think Reggie's too busy to really review that list else he would have told Rabi to redo it."

"What is to become of me?" Alastor asked Edgar. "I don't have a job. I really buggered it up as that means you and the rest won't be getting part of my wages."

"Well technically, Reggie's put you on a much-needed holiday. You're still getting paid but Reggie and I agreed - you _**must**_ cease supporting me and the rest. I deeply appreciate it, but you need to take care of yourself. Pru & I, we've got room for you, so come home. If you feel the need, you can give me money as if you're letting a room from me, but I have to agree on how much you're paying."

"Amelia's ill and you've got Sabine and Brynne staying with you," Alastor reminded him.

"Got plenty of room. It's a big house. Besides, you're family. Family takes care of family. 'Sides there are only two men at the house and with four females, you need to help me balance the ratio."

"Who's the other guy?" Alastor asked. "You're _**not**_ counting your daughter's Kneazle?"

"When you're outnumber four to one, you look for any support you can get. Even if it has four legs and a tail. Speaking of that disreputable Kneazle, you have never mentioned if you minded that she named it after you," Edgar asked. "'Twas my fault, as I remarked that he looked more like an alley cat than a pure blooded Kneazle, so she decided to call it Allie."

Alastor grinned in response and assured Edgar that he didn't mind, as there was a resemblance, as Allie was a cantankerous soul.

"She told me that Allie Cat was her only friend at Hogwarts," Edgar softly confessed. Bones paused and then spoke after he found his voice, "So, once again I find myself in your debt as I couldn't afford to buy Allie. It broke my heart that I couldn't afford a lousy stinking Kneazle, Alastor, for my only daughter… and it was all she wanted. She didn't mind that she was wearing second hand charity… but she just wanted a little furry friend because Amelia was scared about heading off to Hogwarts. "

Edgar was in dire need to vent, so Alastor nodded his head even as he opened two more bottles. A flock of Pixies must be nearby as the cider was disappearing rapidly.

"I told her that if she was unhappy, she could come home," Edgar admitted. "She Owled us, about how well she was doing in Charms and Potions. That she had gotten points from Master Flitwick. How hard she was working in Transfiguration. She kept writing us about how hard she was studying in Transfiguration so I thought that she might be having a problem with it. I told her that an Acceptable was just fine, as I figured she was trying for an Outstanding. She didn't tell me she was getting Trolls, that Albus Dumbledore scared her and that she was crying herself to sleep in the library."

"My daughter couldn't tell me she was having problems. My sons couldn't be bothered to keep an eye out on their little sister. What type of father am I? And Alastor, Pru and I … we're having another one. I can't father the four I have now. I don't have a job. What the hell am I doing having another one? I shouldn't have agreed, but Pru, she _**so**_ wanted another one. One where I'd be home for it instead of out risking my life and limb."

"Edgar…" Alastor began, wishing to offer his congratulations for what was a happy event regardless of Edgar's current concerns. He grasped Edgar by the scruff of his neck. "You're gonna be a great father to the baby as you are a great da."

"I require your assistance, Allie. I need to get back on my feet financially and be damn quick about it," Edgar explained. "We were scraping along but Amelia's potions will be expensive. Plus Pru will be needing Healers. There must be some sort of job for a one-eyed, one armed former Auror."

"Think there might be an opening for me?" Alastor questioned. It was a desperate attempt to keep the normally good-natured Edgar from obsessing on his troubles.

"I believe Albus might be in need of a bodyguard. However, since the last time you two met, you desired to punch him perhaps you won't get rehired. Now didn't single-handedly entertain a whole gaggle of _Jili Ffrwtan_? With that reference, you might be able to set up shop and sell your services. I mean, if you can satisfy…"

Damn it, Alastor knew that he should have left that bit off the dispatches. He had gone every so slightly mad after Erik's death and had recklessly jumped onto the fairy paths to escape from Gellert's wizards. The memories of that trip on the Fairy Paths were a little jumbled, but there had been a hell of a lot of female fairies who were of 'proud and amorous dispositions'. In his tattered memories, he recalled that the fairies had repeatedly bedded him and he had done this best to satisfy the lot.

"Edgar Bones, I can not believe that you're suggesting that I become a _**rent**_ boy."

"I'm sure it pays a great deal better than being an Auror," Edgar reminded Alastor. "I believe Reggie had made up a chart one time detailing the wage difference."

"How much cider have you drunk?" Alastor asked.

"Perhaps a bit more than I should have, considering the potion regime I'm on. Perhaps another one would help clear my head," decided Edgar. "But perhaps, we could go home while I'm still moderately steady on my feet and we can drink there?"

* * *

Pru greeted them warmly when they arrived. She buzzed Edgar on his cheek and motioned toward the kitchen. "There's some food in the kitchen as I am sure you didn't eat Alastor."

"Congratulations," Alastor offered.

That earned a happy blush from Pru. "So he told you? No one else knows as we just found out before Reggie arrived to tell us about Amelia. Please, keep it tight to your vest, Alastor. So much can go wrong early on. Plus, we've got to focus on Amelia now so we will wait to announce it."

"Let me go check on her," Edgar decided. The deceptive trickster seemed cold sober now, which meant the unsteadiness on his feet had been a ploy to get Alastor back to his home. Pru smiled at her husband until he disappeared from sight.

"I fear he got a little rattled when everything happened with Amelia after learning that there will be a new Bones in a few months. Not that he'd admit it to me," admitted Pru. "Is he steadier now?"

"Like a brick," Alastor lied.

His staunch defence of Edgar earned him a grateful smile from Prudence. Yes, she knew that he was lying, but she appreciated his kindness.

"Let me show you where you'll be staying. You'll have my oldest son's room. Sabine and Brynne will have to share the other room. Now, don't you threaten to sleep on the floor or something noble like that. Reggie will be here tomorrow, along with a few Aurors to add an addition on to the house. We weren't anticipating a full house when we invited Sabine and Brynne to live with us, so it will be a little cramp for the next few days."

"I don't know how to thank you," began Alastor.

"I know an easy way, Alastor. Can you help tutor Amelia in Transfiguration? Reggie's being Reggie and he twisted a few professor's arms so they will be tutoring Amelia while she's home. Once a week, they'll pop in to see how she's doing on her schooling but Edgar will be doing most of it. Brynne has agreed to teach her Potions but Transfiguration… I informed Reggie that I don't wish Professor Dumbledore anywhere near my daughter. Not until she's a little calmer."

"He's stupid, not malicious," Alastor explained. "A complete gormless idiot when dealing with people."

"I'm still not letting him near my daughter. However, Edgar can't do the intricate wandwork required and well, I'm her mother. It would be better for us both if I didn't teach her."

"And Alastor, I want you to teach her how to ride a broom," Edgar added as he rejoined the conversation. "I've still got my old Auror broom, the one that only way you get debroomed if you're…"

"Don't say it, Bones," snapped his wife.

"It's got all the various safety Charms, so it should be safe for her to learn how to fly. I know she only had a lesson or two, so I'd like her to learn. It's a good broom and somebody should be using it."

"Edgar," Moody protested.

"No, I'd prefer someone with two arms teach her. Plus she was so looking forward to her flying lessons as she wished to be on her House' Quidditch team."

Alastor nodded his head and easily agreed.


End file.
